learned it on the internet

by goodknightpng

Summary:

Yeosang gets horny and decides to make it the internet's problem.

Notes:

• In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the JongSang Fest 2026 collection.

Prompt:

Select this option if you're self prompting!

Note: this prompt can be claimed more than once 🌼

---

This fic has been in the drafts for well over a year so I thought maybe a fest would push me to finally finish it and I was right, thankfully! It's not perfect but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Yeosang’s most closely guarded secret is that around ten thousand people follow him on Twitter to look at his naked body.

Honestly, it all started because he was bored, horny, and repressed: a winning combination that had any stupid idea making it into reality. Yeosang was twenty-two and had never kissed anyone, let alone got his dick wet, got someone’s dick wet, whatever. It would be nice if that just wasn’t something he was interested in, but Yeosang’s libido was a buildup of maybe eight or so years of repressed sexuality. He'd led an extremely sheltered childhood and teenhood under two tiger parents and an extremely accomplished older sister, laser-focused on getting into a good school to even think of the possibility of dating. 

Fast forward to him finally entering the workforce and managing to save up enough to move into his own apartment, where it felt like he could take the first deep breath of his entire life. The stress of his day job weighed him down enough for him to resort to openly jerking off in his bedroom for the first time, not having to worry about closing the door or being too loud or whatever other embarrassing thing there is about sexually pleasuring yourself. This would probably sound silly to any normal, well-adjusted person, but it had opened up a whole new world for Yeosang.

The problem was Yeosang didn’t know how to sleep around or even date. He had to admit there was many a time word would get around school or campus that so-and-so or such-and-such had a thing for him, but no one had ever really confessed to him or asked him out. Well, he could theoretically, hypothetically do the asking-out himself, but he just…couldn’t. It was nerve-racking and a little too vulnerable, putting yourself on the line like that. Plus, Yeosang never really had strong enough feelings (romantic or otherwise) for anyone to go through more trouble than it was worth. He was stuck in such a stupid place.

Ending up with no one to relieve his sexual frustration, Yeosang could only resort to his own hand—and maybe a few reliable toys. Still, it never seemed to be enough.

One lazy weekend afternoon, Yeosang lies in bed, naked; another liberty of living alone he’d been thoroughly enjoying. He'd jerked off a few times earlier, but now he was just reveling in the hedonic high of it all like he loved to do.

Masturbation had also made Yeosang realize the act made him feel really good about his body. He did like to work out regularly, his muscles slightly more toned than the average person, but it wasn’t so much about how he looked per se. It was more of the feeling, the buzz across his skin after the orgasm that made him want to stretch lethargically into provocative positions, like he was presenting himself to an imaginary someone’s lustful gaze. Touching himself made Yeosang feel sexy and desirable and he so badly wanted another person to see him as such.

Even admitting that to himself felt like Yeosang was being contradictory; he wanted to be desired, but wasn’t willing to let anyone know him enough to be desired?

Yeosang had thought about that for a bit before. He supposed what he wanted was a little like…like being artwork in a museum. It was the attention he craved, the admiration, people looking their fill without being pressured to let them touch, unless it was on his own terms. They could smudge and stain his glass case with their fingerprints, press their feral bodies lewdly against the clear surface—Yeosang could get off to all of it, basking in the adoration like a celebrity. The words “like a god” reverberated in his mind like they were spoken by someone else. It made Yeosang jump in surprise, the audacity of his own thoughts manifesting at a level he didn’t know he was even capable of.

Yeosang rolls over in his bed. There had to be a way to scratch the itch. 

On a whim, Yeosang opens the camera on his phone, flipping it to selfie mode. He lets the lens trail across his body, inadvertently fulfilling the need to see himself from someone else’s point of view. It’s…good. He likes it. He likes seeing the strong lines of his muscles, the different shades of his skin, the curves of the parts of himself that are soft with fat. There's still a degree of shyness that makes him reluctant to linger too long on his cock. He could work up to that, maybe, but overall, he enjoyed everything he was seeing.

It does feel like he had missed the obvious, but the realization hits him like a blow to the head. He could take a picture. Several, even. The recognition of this simple fact fills Yeosang with gleeful excitement.

He decides on a pose where he likes how he looks the most: on his side with one leg hitched up, spine twisting slightly to hold the camera up so it’s angled to capture his ass as the focal point, but still keeping most of his torso and legs visible in the shot. He snaps a few pictures, making minute changes in how he holds the phone in between them.

The angle makes his ass look nice and round. There's also something that appeals to him seeing how the muscle line that runs down the middle of his back follows the contour of his torso. The late afternoon sunlight filters through his frosted glass window, spilling over his body flatteringly in its diffused form. It's nice, Yeosang thinks. He really likes it.

He wants people to see it.

Out of all the places on the internet, the site Yeosang spends the most time on would probably be Twitter, enough that he had multiple accounts for the varying levels of vulnerability he was willing to take on with different social circles; not to mention one that he kept all to himself for the thoughts that needed verbalizing in private.

It would be more than a bit scandalous to even think about posting a picture of his naked body on any of his existing public accounts; they just weren’t the right spaces for it. No, he’d have to create an account completely separate from his current digital footprint.

Yeosang sets up his new profile with a doberman puppy as his icon, typing in puppy as his display name. It wasn’t the most creative, but it was just going to be some throwaway account where he could post whatever he wanted anyway. Just somewhere he could be horny online, is all.

He posts his favorite shot from earlier, captioning it with a simple, woefully generic golden hour. He knew it wouldn’t make it that far within the reaches of the internet without any hashtags, but he could figure it out later. just having his bare ass online was already a thrill to him.

Yeosang spends the next few evenings exploring on his new account, entering different search terms to try and find users with similar…interests. He notices a particular hashtag that crops up in their posts, likely the one under which the majority of sexuality-centric accounts post their nudes.

Yeosang hums in thought. Should he try posting something new? As he mulls it over, he follows several of the accounts he’d found, reposting their selfies in cute lingerie sets, clips of amateur porn, content of that nature. 

Tonight, Yeosang is wearing a pair of shorts with no underwear that makes him settle on taking another ass picture. It's a loose pair of blue cotton shorts that are short enough to keep riding up and showing the underside of his butt. He aims the camera at himself in a similar manner as before, except he makes sure his ass takes up most of the frame this time.

He ends up with a few cute shots where his cheeks peek out from under his shorts teasingly, and the way his spine twists and stretches to capture the image makes his waist look smaller. perfect, Yeosang thinks.

Not wanting to try too hard, all Yeosang puts in the caption is hi followed by the community hashtag.

It's a stark contrast to what it was like posting his first picture. From radio silence, his phone is suddenly vibrating with dozens of notifications from people liking and reposting his new picture. He even gains quite a few followers. 

To Yeosang's surprise, he racks up a number of messages as well. He opens up some of them, turning redder with every word.

[ twt_dm: princess809 ] looking absolutely stunning

[ twt_dm: thecaptain ] you are so fucking hot

[ twt_dm: planet_mars ] i would fuck you raw

Yeosang swallows nervously. He starts from the earliest message and begins typing out a reply.

—

Yeosang had been running his secret account for two years now, gathering a substantial amount of followers for someone who only posted as a hobby. It was everything Yeosang wished for, a constant stream of validation, admiration, worship. There was no shortage of people (mostly men) in his notifications telling him how hot he was, what filthy things they would do to his body, how much they missed him when he got busy offline, sending explicit pictures (mostly of cock) in the hopes of receiving a reply. It all made Yeosang feel so…powerful.

He had steadily been posting more and more daring content across the years, finally brave enough to capture riskier shots of his cock and hole, experimenting with videos, masturbating on camera without showing his face, even purchasing toys and clothes chosen by his followers to use and wear for them. He discovered how much he loved to sext his eager fans, their exchanges managing to get him off more often than not, by virtue of Yeosang’s sheer horniness. He would sometimes be asked to have sex over a call, which he would decline. Even after two years, that was something he wasn’t quite ready for yet. 

One night, he receives a notification from someone with the display name teddy bear. Yeosang always goes through all of his notifications no matter how long it takes, so of course this was no different.

Yeosang sees that teddy bear had left a comment under one of his posts from a few months ago: a set of photos of him in a pretty peach pink babydoll lingerie dress. The bra had a lace finish with a gold clasp at the front. Yeosang’s chest didn’t exactly fill out the cups, but it didn’t look terrible. The sheer mesh fabric attached to the underband fell like curtains around Yeosang’s torso, draping sexily over his thighs. The dress had a matching thong, so tiny that it barely left any of his cock to the imagination.

You’re gorgeous, wrote teddy bear. Out of curiosity, Yeosang checks the user’s profile.

Teddy bear was following him and had shared a few of Yeosang’s posts. The account is pretty normal as most go, reposts of people’s nudes and porn videos—but no images or videos of his own. In fact, Yeosang barely sees any text posts of teddy bear’s that aren’t replies to other accounts. So he was just around to look, Yeosang figures.

As he does with most accounts, Yeosang follows teddy bear back, then goes to reply to his comment.

Thank you, you’re so sweet, he writes. He goes back to satisfy more of his curiosity by scrolling through teddy bear’s account. It's more pictures that are a lot like Yeosang’s, gay as well as straight porn, and other very run-of-the-mill content on this side of the internet.

Yeosang isn’t really surprised that it doesn't take long for teddy bear to send him a message.

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] hi :)

just wanted to tell you how pretty all your pictures are

your videos too

everything you post is like

exactly to my taste haha

You would think Yeosang would be used to the kinds of things people send him by now, but he still ends up blushing.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] thank you ^_^

i love to look pretty for my followers

i’ll think of you when i put up my next post hehet

Yeosang thinks of it as his own brand of fanservice, the way he interacts with followers. It didn't matter what they looked like or who they were or how long they knew each other. He loved to do and say things that he knew people wanted to see and hear.

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] whatever it is i’m sure i’ll love it

do you sell?

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] not right now, sorry

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] aw no worries

just wanted to say there’d be a lot of demand for it

if that was ever something you wanted to do

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] yeah you’re right i just

i do this for fun and i don’t really want to turn it into something stressful on top of everything

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] of course

i understand

sorry if this is weird but i was going through your tweets

you really take the time to reply to everyone don’t you

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] i might miss some but i do try to get to everyone yeah ;;

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] is that something you like doing?

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] it is actually…

i love all the nice comments and messages everyone leaves me

i want everyone to know i read them and that i like what i’m reading

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] wow that’s so

cute haha

so you have something of a praise kink

Yeosang’s legs rub together in spite of himself. It doesn't take a whole lot for his body to start getting warm when he talks to his followers, no matter what the topic is. Yeosang could get horny over anything.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] that among many other things haha

i like…

the attention

i mean who doesn’t i guess

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] you’re right

everyone loves attention

and you give it right back to your followers

i see why they love you

besides how pretty you are

Yeosang bites his lip. Something about the way teddy bear talks is so disarming. Yeosang could go on talking to him forever.

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] i bet you’d make the prettiest noises when i fuck my cock into you

Yeosang’s phone almost slips out of his hands.

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] sorry 

is that okay

do you mind me saying things like that about you

Most users, even on this side of the internet, were sensitive to unwanted sexual advances, which Yeosang completely understood. To each their own prerogative. Except Yeosang was not most users.

He favored followers who got straight to the point, those who described exactly how they wanted to use his body, those who sent pictures and videos of them touching themselves to him, without him having to ask. He was there to be horny and for people to be horny over him, damn it!

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] no it’s fine

i do sound pretty when i’m taking a nice big cock

If by cock, you mean dildo, Yeosang amends in his mind. He didn’t need to disclose his sexual history (or lack thereof) to anyone.

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] fuck

of course you would

i’d hold you down and make you take it all

nice and slow

so i can hear you whining all needy for me to go faster

Yeosang’s breathing starts to pick up.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] hmm is that so

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] when i’ve made you beg enough i’ll have you in my lap riding my cock

working that tight body of yours to pleasure yourself

i promise i’ll make it so good for you puppy

Yeosang begins touching himself the way he likes, immersing himself in teddy bear’s fantasies. Pre-cum already leaks from his slit, making the glide of his palm feel even better up and down his shaft.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] fuck

can i see you please

can i see your cock

It takes teddy bear some time to reply. Yeosang tries not to move his hand too fast on his own cock.

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] sorry puppy i don’t send pics

i wanna keep talking to you though

It doesn't matter to Yeosang whether he sees what teddy bear’s cock looks like or not; he can imagine just fine. Yeosang’s only problem is that he’s so fucking aroused, he can barely think straight.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] teddy i’m so wet please

need your thick cock

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] i’ll give it to you puppy you beg so nicely

gonna drive my cock into your pretty little pussy

fill you up with my cum

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] fuck

please teddy i want it so bad

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] you’re so cute

are you touching yourself

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] yes

fuck

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] keep going baby

pretend it’s my fingers around your cock

Something about Teddy made Yeosang want to perform for him. He throws his phone down on the bed, rushing to shove his clothes off of his body. Retrieving his phone to switch on the camera, he angles it at his cock, hits record, and continues touching himself.

Yeosang only becomes particularly loud when he’s coming, but while he’s still in the middle of getting himself off, he’s more of a heavy breather. Except now, he wants to play it up for Teddy, desperate for his approval. He exaggerates his whimpers and whines and moans just a touch, enough to heighten the experience without ending up sounding fake. He makes sure the shine of the pre-cum on his cockhead is caught on camera.

He sends the video.

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] fuck puppy you’re so perfect

how did i get so lucky

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] so wet for you teddy

your cock is so big inside me

it’s making me leak so much

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] fuck

so hot and wet inside you too baby

you’re gonna make me cum so fast

Teddy’s words are really fucking doing it for Yeosang, who’s hanging on by a thread. He can feel his orgasm about to crash on him like a wave.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] teddy i’m close

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] cum for me baby

It only takes a few more strokes for Yeosang to come hard into his hand, a loud, drawn-out moan escaping his throat as the sensation travels through his body like an electric shock.

Yeosang lies limp on his bed, phone falling out of his hand, breathing hard. His eyelids fall shut, spent from his effort. Sleep threatens to take him.

Yeosang’s phone vibrates. Right, Yeosang thinks, blinking his eyes back open. Right. He rolls over to grab some tissue off his bedside table so he can wipe up as much of his mess as he can. His sensitive cock twitches as he runs the tissue over it.

He picks his phone back up, opening Teddy's most recent message.

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] did you cum puppy

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] yes

fuck

i came so hard

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] that’s my good boy

Against his will, Yeosang lets out another whimper.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] did you cum too teddy

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] i did baby thank you

you were so hot

i have to leave for now puppy but i enjoyed that so much

i’ll message you again

Yeosang has to resist letting his face fall.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] i wanna keep talking to you :(

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] i’m sorry baby i know

we can talk again tomorrow

message me any time and i’ll get back to you when i can

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] i miss you already

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] miss you more

—

At his work desk, Yeosang stares into a random space on his computer screen. It's half past eleven in the morning, right around the time where his concentration starts to falter. Yeosang takes his hand off the mouse and rubs at his eyes.

He can't stop thinking about Teddy. There was always the odd follower once in a while that Yeosang just clicked with sexually. They'd know how to rile him up and get him desperate with a few dirty messages, how to talk to him with just the right amount of dominance to keep him hot, how to treat him softly when he’s at his most vulnerable. Teddy was checking every box.

Yeosang had had these small “crushes” on those kinds of users before. He couldn’t help it; it was inevitable for him to form some kind of attachment to them. Yeosang would grow fond of them, then they’d deactivate their account out of the blue or just get distant and start messaging less and less. Yeosang never took any of it personally. Online relationships (sexual or otherwise) were flimsy things. Falling apart was to be expected.

He knew deep inside that the same thing could happen with Teddy. Still, he wanted to have as much fun with him while this vague, ineffable connection of theirs lasted.

On his lunch break, Yeosang grabs a seat in a secluded corner of the cafeteria, a tray of soybean paste stew and rice laid out in front of him. After a few bites, he takes his phone out.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] hi

Yeosang taps his finger against the side of his phone, thinking of what to say. Before he can decide on something, he sees Teddy typing out a reply.

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] hi baby

was wondering when you’d message

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] sorry i had to go to work ;;

it’s my lunch break now so i thought i’d say hi

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] i’m so happy you did :)

i’m on my break too

how was your morning

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] nothing special

almost fell asleep at my desk

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] was i keeping you up too late?

i’m sorry

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] nooo

not you

i just get tired easily

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] maybe we should save our fun for weekends only

Weekends only? Yeosang scrambles to oppose.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] absolutely not!!!

teddy take it back

now

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] hahahahaha

you’re so cute

i’m just kidding baby

i don’t think i could handle only weekends either

if i could just stay home and talk you through cumming all day everyday, i would

Yeosang shifts in his seat. He knew if he humored Teddy's line of thinking, he’d end up having to hide the front of his pants on the way to the restroom.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] ;;

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] what’s wrong baby

do you not want that

:)

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] you know i do

i just can’t talk to you about this while i’m at work…

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] are you getting turned on

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] …

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] :)

you make me want to do so many things to you

Yeosang has to look away from his phone screen and take a deep breath. This guy was really testing him.

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] ahhh

sorry sorry

that just slipped out okay i really was going to stop after your last message

i can’t help it

thinking about you like that

okay hard stop i’m sorry hahaha

maybe it would be better if we continued this later? :)

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] you are so mean to meee

:(

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] i’m sorryyy

every time i talk to you i just think about how much i want to make you feel good

promise we’ll have fun once you get home and settled

because clearly i can’t control myself around you

message me again then

okay? :)

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] okay :(

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] that’s my good puppy

have a nice rest of your day at work :)

Yeosang has to sit at his table for a while, finishing the rest of his food and trying to think of unsexy things to will his impending boner down.

—

Yeosang isn’t always naked when he posts pictures to his clandestine Twitter account. Sometimes he just likes the way his body looks as he catches glimpses of his reflection when he’s in one of his tight shirts or in a set of form-fitting athletic wear.

He gets one such glimpse of himself in the mirror after returning home from the gym and stripping down. He's shirtless, his bare torso gently lit by his bedroom lamp, casting soft shadows across the dips and slopes of his muscles. A faint sheen of sweat covers his skin, warmth still lingering on his body from exertion. He hadn’t yet gotten to taking off his compression tights, the black spandex tightly hugging every curve of his toned legs and contrasting flatteringly with his light skin. 

It would make for a good post on his Twitter account, Yeosang decides. He'd been wanting to upload something new for Teddy to see anyway.

He meticulously aims his phone at the mirror and snaps a few pictures of his reflection, making infinitesimal changes to his pose to accentuate the parts of his body he liked best. It takes maybe a few dozen shots until he gets several he’s happy with.

After messing with editing the colors and lighting, he posts it to Twitter. A barrage of interactions come through almost immediately. Yeosang has to resist outwardly preening as he enters the shower.

Once he’s towelled dry, he plops onto his bedsheets completely naked, scrolling through his notifications. He’d get to replying to everyone later. He just liked seeing the near-endless outpouring of praise and proposition flooding his feed. So many people wanted to jerk off to him, to touch him, to fuck him. It sends a rush of adrenaline through his veins.

He almost misses it, but Yeosang manages to catch a comment under the username he’d secretly been looking out for.

[ twt_reply: dearteddybear ] fuck you look so good

Yeosang just can’t resist showing him a little favoritism.

[ twt_reply: puppyb0y ] you always know what to say <3

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] i mean it

need to see how you feel under my hands

Yeosang’s hand moves to curl around his cock.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] tell me more

—

Yeosang ends up getting off almost every night to Teddy sexting him. Yeosang would end up touching himself, fingering himself, using a toy, positioning his body the way Teddy would say he would fuck him. He’d send Teddy more and more videos of himself with his face still hidden, voice messages of him moaning the apartment down—even links to porn showing Teddy how he wanted to take his cock.

He still messages Teddy at work, on his break or when he’s not too swamped with tasks. Now that the both of them have settled into a routine that satisfies their urges, they know how to better behave themselves during their nine-to-fives. They talk about how their days are going in very vague terms, the two of them still maintaining a strict degree of anonymity. They talk about their interests outside the bedroom, the things that annoy them, their favorite foods, what they like doing on the weekend. 

After maybe a month or so, Yeosang realizes just how much of his body he’s sent to Teddy through their messages. Even as Yeosang continues to post his regular content publicly, he has to admit Teddy has been getting all the premium VIP treatment lately, figuratively speaking—even compared to other followers, now that Yeosang thinks about it. Yet he hasn’t seen what teddy looks like at all.

It wasn’t really a dealbreaker for him and he didn’t want to push Teddy into anything uncomfortable, but Yeosang’s curiosity had to be satiated.

When Yeosang gets home, he takes off his work bag and lays it on his chair just as he decides to send his next message.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] hey i know you said you don’t send pics but

i really wanna see you :(

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] you’re being so unfair puppy

how can anyone say no to you when you’re always so cute

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] pleaseee

Teddy doesn’t immediately start typing a reply. It makes Yeosang freeze in the middle of his bedroom. He couldn’t be—

Teddy sends him an image. It’s a little blurry and terribly lit, but Yeosang knows it’s a picture of his hard cock.

Fuck.

He sent a picture of his cock. Yeosang’s thumb trembles as he taps to enlarge the image.

Fuck, Yeosang thinks. It’s…it’s big. Like, big enough that Yeosang has a feeling he’d have to stretch his mouth around the cockhead to get it to fit. Saliva gathers in his mouth at the thought. He can see the vein running along the shaft and wonders if he could still feel it while Teddy is inside of him. 

Besides his cock, Yeosang notices the picture captures a bit of Teddy's body as well—a pair of strong, thick thighs and a peek of soft tummy. 

Yeosang has never used the word delicious to describe anyone’s body, but this changed things. He wanted to suck and bite every inch of Teddy’s body, wanted to feel his soft weight press Yeosang down into his bed, wanted to tangle together until they didn’t know where one ended and the other began.

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] baby?

puppy

say something please you’re making me nervous

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] fuck

you’re so

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] so???

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] you’re so fucking hot i’m about to cum in my pants

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] hahahaha

baby you’re so sweet

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] teddy it’s not fucking funny if i don’t have you inside me right now i’ll DIE

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] can’t have that now can we

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] :((

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] gotta open you up to get me inside you baby

need you nice and loose so i can fit right?

Yeosang throws his phone on his bed so he can get naked as quickly as he can, hands clumsily unbuttoning his shirt and unzipping his pants in his haste.

He settles back in bed with his bottle of lube, getting his hand slicked up and beginning to finger himself.

His phone vibrates beside him. Yeosang picks it up with his free hand.

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] you still there puppy

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] yes i’m

i have my fingers inside

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] oh already?

such a good boy you are

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] yeah for you

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] of course baby

how many fingers are inside you right now

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] 3

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] can you do 4 for me baby

make sure youre ready for my cock to stretch you wide open

Yeosang has never done four fingers before. He gets more lube on his hand, takes a deep breath, and starts fitting his pinky inside his hole alongside the rest of his fingers. 

Ah, fuck, he thinks.

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] how are you doing baby

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] tight

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] i know baby go slow for me

take your time

i'm right here

Yeosang breathes his way through, thrusting his fingers slowly in and out of his hole, then gently, gradually inserting his fourth finger.

He manages to get his four fingers in comfortably. His eyes roll back slightly at the sensation of having this much inside him, having his hole stretched this much.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] teddy i did it

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] how does it feel

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] full

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] move your fingers for me

in and out

want you to imagine its my cock

Yeosang does as he says, breathing more heavily with each thrust. It feels good, but at the same time, it’s not enough.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] fuck teddy

i need your cock

my fingers cant reach deep enough

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] i know baby

hold on

A few minutes pass, Yeosang having to contend with tiptoeing the line of discomfort and faint, ebbing pleasure as he waits. 

Teddy sends him another message. It's a video.

It's a video of Teddy's hand fisted around his cock, jerking himself off. Yeosang is mesmerized by the way the skin stretches over flesh, his shapely fingers tugging at his cock desperately. It leaks pre-cum generously, spreading over the rest of his shaft as it drips down to his moving fingers. Yeosang hears his breathing, his grunts when the sensation gets too intense, his exhales as he pauses on the upstroke.

Yeosang’s own cock twitches as he gets eager to reach orgasm, stuffing his fingers deeper in his hole, thrusting faster and faster until he feels his climax build inside him.

His orgasm takes him by surprise, making him shudder around his fingers as his breath comes in shaky, uneven pants.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] teddy

i came so hard fuck

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] me too baby

kept imagining it was your tight hole around my cock

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] :<

Yeosang has to let go of his phone and work on slipping his fingers out from inside him. He slides them out with a haggard exhale. After wiping himself down, he tosses aside his handful of used tissues.

He flops onto his back, eyes fluttering shut, tired out from coming harder than he has in a while.

With Teddy, things were different. It felt different to be the one turned on by someone else, by how they were treating him, instead of being the one trying to please, the one having to perform… Teddy still harbored the kind of admiration and hunger Yeosang sought as the artwork, but something about him made Yeosang want to finally climb out of his glass case and let their bodies contort together until they were molded anew, painted over with the bruising brushstrokes of their eager hands. 

Yeosang was obsessed. He couldn’t hold off from texting Teddy again, not even for a second.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] cant stop thinking about your voice

the way you sounded in the video

everything about you is so hot

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] you're so cute lol

Unexpectedly, the next thing Teddy sends is a voice message. Yeosang is immediately curious, pressing play.

Hi baby, comes Teddy’s voice out of the speaker. Puppy. He chuckles to himself. 

His voice is soft and gentle, nothing like Yeosang expected it to be. Boyish. Warm. Yeosang would be playing this over and over again to memorize its timbre. 

I just wanted to give you another gift, Teddy goes on to say. Because you liked how I sounded.

I wish I could have seen you come. I bet you were gorgeous. Can almost see your pretty hole fluttering around your pretty fingers.

Yeosang can’t help himself. His hand reaches back down to wrap around his cock almost of its own volition.

I just know your face is pretty too, Teddy murmurs. Yeosang exhales at the drop in his voice.

Need to see the way your mouth opens when you come for me.

Need to hear you too, puppy.

I need you.

Even before the message fully ends, Yeosang impatiently swipes open his camera app, aiming the lens at his dick and pressing record as he jerks himself off with the sloppiness and desperation of a horny teenager.

Yeosang comes again, a moan escaping from low in his throat.

He sends the video to Teddy.

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] fuck

why are you so good to me puppy

Yeosang can only gather enough strength to type back three characters, still out of it from his second orgasm.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] no u

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] hahahaha cutie

go and sleep baby

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] wat abt u :(

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] gonna be real with you baby i can literally just think about you and it’ll be enough to make me cum

i can handle myself puppy you go and sleep

Yeosang really doesn’t think much of it as he taps out his last reply before falling deeply asleep.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] ily

—

Yeosang slowly wakes in the midmorning light. It's the weekend—no blaring alarms to drag himself out of bed to, just the leisure of being able to stretch in his bed and make the decision whether he wants to go back to sleep or simply lay there, conscious and idle.

His eyelids flutter open. What time was it? He feels around for his phone, finds it, holds it up to his face for him to squint at. Ten fifty-four. and also—

( Teddy sent a video )

It's an immediate shot of adrenaline through his body as Yeosang hurries to open the notification. It's almost embarrassing how fast his heart thumps against his sternum. He feels like he can hear it in his ears.

In the video, Yeosang can see a tablet screen, the display lit up with one of his pictures. The shot was taken from between his legs as he laid back against his pillows, thighs spread so there was a generous view of his erect cock as he teased it gingerly with his fingers.

Yeosang could see Teddy's own cock at the bottom of the frame, his fist working over it in quick, harsh strokes. The wet noises layered over his labored breathing were already too much for Yeosang. 

It isn't long until ropes of cum shoot out from Teddy's cock, splattering disgustingly across the tablet screen, all over Yeosang’s picture. Teddy groans without restraint as he releases it all.

It's a cum tribute.

Then, so faintly that Yeosang isn’t even sure he hears it right, Teddy chokes out, “Love you, puppy.”

The video ends.

Yeosang throws his phone across the bed, breathing heavily, already hard.

It takes a few minutes, but Yeosang recovers enough to shakily reach for his phone. He replies to Teddy's message immediately.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] need to see you

please

Seconds pass, then minutes. It's clear Teddy isn’t about to message him back any time soon.

Yeosang leaves the video playing on loop on his phone and rubs out an orgasm that’s only half-satisfying to the sight and sound of Teddy stroking his cock and his groans and grunts. 

It’s no good, Yeosang thinks desperately as he chokes on his own climax. He needs Teddy there with him, in the flesh.

Evening falls and Yeosang is still waiting around for Teddy’s reply. He'd spent the day barely paying any attention to his household chores, video games, and hollow internet-scrolling.

The thought of Teddy ghosting him flickers through his mind like an intrusive candle flame. It makes his chest ache unpleasantly. Yeosang had said, hadn’t he, that these online flings were flimsy? Why would he be upset at some anonymous user deciding to just stop talking to him? 

Because it wasn’t just any unknown user, it was Teddy, his Ted—

Yeosang hears his phone vibrate and dives for it within the next second.

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] how do you want me puppy

another pic?

vid?

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] no

wanna see you

wanna touch you

want you to fuck me for real

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] fuck baby

are you sure?

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] yes

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] you aren’t scared i’m gonna be some creepy weirdo who’s going to abduct you

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] that’s even better

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] stop

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] abduct me

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] stop that

Yeosang is about to type out another reply when he sees Teddy typing…typing…typing…like he’s mulling something over.

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] i’m different in real life puppy

what if i’m not like all your fantasies

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] you’re my fantasy

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] don’t say things like that

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] why

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] i’m gonna fall for you so bad

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] i’ll catch you

It takes another few minutes until Teddy's next message.

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] are you in seoul

—

They decide to meet for drinks and light dinner at a trendy jazz club in Yeosang’s district. 

In his excitement, it’s only outside the establishment’s exposed brick exterior that it dawns on Yeosang that this is his first date, like, ever.

Yeosang fiddles uncertainly with the cream turtleneck he wears under his long, black coat. He's not done nearly enough research on this. Who knows if he’s underdressed or overdressed. Who knows if there was a scrap of social etiquette that remained to be followed on your first ever date with someone you met online that you’d been sexting for months. Who knows if this is the worst idea Yeosang has had since almost getting himself and his sister arrested for trespassing as minors.

Anyway, it was too late now. Yeosang’s eagerness to meet Teddy far outweighed any lingering anxiety at this point.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] i’m here at the entrance

where are you?

It isn't long until Yeosang hears a soft, dulcet voice by his side. “Puppy?”

Yeosang whirls around and is suddenly face-to-face with a handsome, dark-haired, brown-eyed man with the cutest nose Yeosang has ever seen. 

This can’t be him. It can’t be. He’s so much more beautiful than Yeosang had imagined. He's maybe a centimeter or so taller than Yeosang and has the kind of boyish good looks of someone’s high school sweetheart.

Yeosang is immediately possessed by a rogue impulsiveness completely uncharacteristic of him. “Teddy!” he exclaims, flinging his arms around the man’s neck in excitement.

Yeosang can feel him chuckle against his hair as he returns Yeosang’s hug. He loves the way Teddy’s laugh sounds. It's just as charming as he looks. 

“Thank god it’s you,” Teddy—the man—says as Yeosang pulls back. “Or that would have been so embarrassing.”

He’s really so good-looking, Yeosang thinks as he watches him speak. Yeosang’s eyes inadvertently drop to the man’s lips. They're shaped in a natural pout, plush and dusty pink. Yeosang wants to kiss them so bad. 

“Could be worse,” Yeosang says, barely keeping track of their conversation, too occupied with drinking in what Teddy looks like.

Yeosang realizes Teddy is looking right back at him like he can’t believe his eyes.

Yeosang giggles. “What is it?”

“God,” Teddy says reverently. “You're so pretty. Like—so pretty.”

“So are you.”

“No, I mean it,” Teddy insists (which wasn’t really fair because it wasn’t like Yeosang didn’t also mean it). “You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen.”

Yeosang beams, clearly pleased. “You don’t have to sweet-talk me so much. I already like you.”

“Okay, but how much?”

Yeosang smacks Teddy’s chest lightly. "Don't get smart with me,” Yeosang laughs, turning to lead Teddy to the door of the bar.

Teddy catches Yeosang by the wrist. “Wait.”

“Hm?”

“Can I know your name?” he asks. “Now that we’ve met. Is that okay?”

Yeosang grins. He'd forgotten it would be a little silly calling each other by their screen names the whole night. “Yeosang. Kang Yeosang.”

“Yeosang,” the man repeats, continuing to look at him for a beat too long.

“What about yours?” Yeosang prompts.

“Huh?”

“Your name?” he clarifies, hiding another laugh.

Teddy recovers from his brief disorientation. “Ah, yeah, sorry. I'm Choi Jongho.”

Yeosang smiles. It suits him. “Come on then, Choi Jongho.” Yeosang tugs him to the entrance. “I want a drink.”

—

“Nice place,” Jongho comments. “I've never heard of it before.”

The club is dimly lit by a minimal number of sconce lamps, while cool-toned mood lighting bathes the stage where a five-piece jazz band was in the middle of their set. Jongho and Yeosang are seated at the bar, far enough to have pleasant conversation over the music, but still able to enjoy a view of the performance.

“It is nice,” Yeosang agrees. “Someone at work recommended it to me, but I like to come here with friends. You said you were into live music once so I thought you might like it.”

“I like it a lot.” Jongho gives him an amiable smile over his glass of beer. “So can I ask you what you do for work? Is that on the table?”

“I think so. We can just be two people getting to know each other now.” Yeosang shrugs easily. “I’m a software engineer. Nothing terribly exciting, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sure the pay is exciting.”

“It's alright. What about you?”

“I teach high school PE.”

“Now that’s exciting.”

“Don't I know it. I love those kids but they test me every damn day.”

“Here I thought it was supposed to be you doing the testing.”

Jongho narrows his eyes at him, clearly baited by Yeosang’s poor attempt at humor. “Oh, you think you’re being funny, do you?”

“Depends,” Yeosang says, trying to stop the corners of his mouth from stretching into a grin. "Is it making you fall for me more or less?”

“Hm.” Jongho holds his gaze long enough for Yeosang’s cheeks to start to color. “Now that would be telling.”

Jongho lifts a hand to Yeosang’s face, fingers brushing his hair out of his face so Jongho can see his birthmark.

“Is it rude if I ask what happened to you here?”

Yeosang laughs bashfully as Jongho withdraws his hand. “Not at all. It’s just a birthmark.”

“I’ve never met anyone with a birthmark in such a distinct place.”

“Neither have I.”

Jongho chuckles. Yeosang wonders what it is about his answer that he finds so funny.

“It certainly doesn’t help giving people another reason to stare,” Jongho says.

“What's the first reason?”

“You're gorgeous, of course. You must have noticed.”

Yeosang reddens. He'd been told he had a nice face but he always assumed people were just kidding around. Jongho said it with such an earnestness that Yeosang finds it hard to deflect the compliment this time.

“Should we drop the formal speech?” Yeosang asks, scrambling to change the subject. “It just feels strange considering how much we’ve been talking.”

“Feels like as good a time as any,” Jongho agrees. “Hold on, I can't believe I never thought to ask how old you are.”

“I was born in ‘99.”

Jongho nearly does a spit take of his drink. “Hyung,” he says with an exaggerated reverence.

“You’re younger than me?” Yeosang exclaims.

“Just by a year.”

“This is crazy to me.”

They continue to go where the conversation leads them, topics flowing seamlessly now that they no longer had to be anonymous online personas. It felt as though there was no shortage of things they could talk about at length, though the drinks were certainly helping. 

At some point, Yeosang realizes Jongho’s knee is touching his own. They must have bumped against each other earlier and then just…never moved away.

They pause to clap appreciatively when the band ends their set. Yeosang wasn’t exactly a musical person but even he’d enjoyed the soothing wash of music over the background of their exchange. He would love to come here again, if Jongho was with him.

As the applause slowly dies down, Jongho lowers his hands and Yeosang follows suit. Jongho’s palm lands on Yeosang’s thigh and stays there.

Yeosang freezes in place. He tries to ignore it. It was simply a casual gesture of affection, surely. Plus, his body was already warm from the plum sour he’d ordered and if he thought about it too much his libido would get way ahead of him.

The band’s frontman gives a heartfelt post-performance speech, thanking the venue and community for their support. Yeosang does his best to focus on the words, but he feels Jongho’s hand travel slowly, almost absentmindedly, up the inside of Yeosang’s thigh. Jongho stops midway and squeezes.

“Let’s get out of here,” he murmurs.

Yeosang swallows and nods. “Alright.”

—

“Where are we going?”

“Anywhere,” Jongho says. “I was starting to get hot from the drinks.”

Yeosang thinks about how Jongho had downed more drinks compared to his singular cocktail but there wasn’t a trace of intoxication about his face nor actions.

“We can walk down this street,” Yeosang suggests, gesturing with a little nod. “I’m pretty familiar with this area. There won’t be many people this way.”

They start walking down the small, quiet street, timidly letting their arms bump together lightly as they go.

They pass a nearby park that Yeosang recognizes, one that he always goes through when he happens to be in the vicinity.

“I love this park,” he tells Jongho. “It’s nice to walk in when there’s no one around. It’s beautiful too, especially in the springti—”

Jongho tugs Yeosang behind the trunk of a nearby tree, pulls him in by the shoulders, and kisses him.

It’s warm, is what Yeosang first notices. Jongho’s lips are searing against his. Yeosang can feel the heat of his whole body even from the chaste distance he stands where he stands.

The sensation of Jongho’s soft mouth on his own feels so new and exciting. Yeosang wants more of it, parting his lips to invite Jongho in.

Jongho’s tongue slides into his mouth. Yeosang can taste the alcohol on his breath, but it’s not unpleasant. Yeosang likes the intimacy of knowing what Jongho tastes like in this moment. Yeosang needs him closer. 

He slides his hands into Jongho’s coat, against his ribcage, slowly slipping around the breadth of his abdomen. It's hot, the skin through his clothes, Yeosang’s hands, their lips against one another, everything.

closer

Yeosang’s palms come to rest against Jongho’s broad strong back, taking a small step forward to fall into his space. Jongho’s hands cup Yeosang’s face as they kiss, tongues licking deeper still. Warm, warm, hot—

closer

Yeosang’s hands squeeze into fists around the fabric of Jongho’s shirt. Jongho’s hand makes its way into Yeosang’s hair, fingers weaving through the strands. All he can taste and smell and feel is Jongho and it’s hot, it’s so hot—

Yeosang doesn’t know how he lived without being touched like this. Nor does he know how he had ever only been content just talking to Jongho through a screen. It had been a long fucking time coming.

Jongho kisses him, long and slow and deep and desperate.

It’s a perfect first kiss. Not that Yeosang has anything to compare it to.

“Fuck,” Yeosang says in between kisses, “you’re so much better in real life.”

Jongho smiles in spite of himself. He gives Yeosang one last kiss before pulling away. “I sure would hope so.”

Yeosang giggles, then sighs happily. “Where else do you want to go?”

“I don’t know.” Jongho’s hands squeeze down Yeosang’s arms. “I don’t want to say goodbye yet.”

“We don’t have to,” Yeosang hints, hoping Jongho takes the bait.

“What exactly are you suggesting?”

Yeosang feels his face get hot. “You're really making me say it out loud?”

“I can’t possibly imagine anything you aren’t able to say out loud.”

“Don't pretend to be a gentleman.”

Jongho puckers his lips pensively, thinking for a bit. “We can find a motel somewhere here—”

“Or we can just go to my place,” Yeosang suggests like this wasn’t part of the plan all along. “I’m just two streets down.”

“You really aren’t worried at all about someone off the internet knowing your address?” Jongho asks, a mild look of concern on his face.

“Jongho.” Yeosang stops walking and turns to him. “I’m expecting you to have it fully memorized.”

“There is not a single shred of self-preservation in you.”

“That doesn’t matter when I want you as much as I do,” Yeosang says earnestly.

“It's like he doesn’t hear me at all,” Jongho mutters as an aside.

Yeosang marches off with aplomb. “Too much talking, not enough walking,” he says over his shoulder.

Jongho jogs to catch up with Yeosang’s pace. “You're so bossy.”

“You love it.”

Yeosang feels Jongho’s hand hook around his arm, pulling on him to stop him in his tracks. Jongho takes Yeosang’s face in his hands and kisses him again.

God. Yeosang won’t ever be able to be satisfied with anything less than this.

When Jongho breaks away, he says, "I do.”

Yeosang intertwines his fingers with Jongho’s and leads him down the street.

—

Yeosang doesn’t let go of Jongho’s hand; not when he swings open the glass door of his apartment building, not when he punches in the password on his keypad lock, not when he pulls Jongho through to his bedroom. Yeosang says in his mind that it’s intimacy, because saying that Jongho’s touch is grounding him would require Yeosang to admit he’s beginning to feel out of his depth.

In Yeosang's head, he remembers every movie, every television show where the love interests barely make it through the front door without being entangled in each other passionately, clothes ripped off and left in a trail on the way to the bedroom. Before tonight, Yeosang had thought meeting Jongho would turn out something like that.

It doesn’t, though. not that it’s disappointing, not at all, it’s just—different. It's quieter how they end up in Yeosang’s room. A wordless tug on his lover’s hand, bodies still hidden under fabric. Yet somehow, the air feels warmer.

In the middle of the room, Yeosang’s hand slips out of Jongho’s. Yeosang turns around and begins to undress himself.

Yeosang doesn’t make a show of it, not like he does with his followers. He doesn't arch his back, doesn’t tease flashes of skin in flirty invitation. He doesn’t perform. He lets his coat fall to the ground, lifts the hem of his turtleneck until it drags up his body, all in simple, measured movements.

Yeosang’s sweater is barely over his shoulders when he hears the sharp suck of air between Jongho’s teeth. Yeosang finishes pulling off his sweater, takes off his socks, then undoes his pants. He slides down his underwear along with the pants, letting them join the pool of clothes at his feet. 

He hears Jongho move behind him, shivers when he feels his breath at his neck.

Yeosang gasps as Jongho’s hands slide around his waist while he presses his mouth into Yeosang’s neck. His hands continue running over the skin of Yeosang’s chest, then his stomach, then lower, lower—

Yeosang stops Jongho’s hands before they reach his hardening dick.

“Can I suck you off first?” he asks.

Jongho exhales, fingers tightening around where they lay against Yeosang’s lower abdomen. "Of course, baby.”

Jongho lets Yeosang extricate himself from his grip to turn back to Jongho and get on his knees.

“In a hurry?” Jongho asks, as he discards his own coat and Yeosang pulls the zipper down Jongho’s pants.

“I think I might come too fast if I let you touch me any more.”

“That’s okay,” Jongho says, moving Yeosang’s hair out of his face with a finger. “We don’t have to be done after just once.”

Yeosang nods. He gets distracted midway when Jongho’s pants fall to the floor and Jongho is left in his briefs, thighs on display. They're big. If Yeosang splays his hand out on one of them, it would maybe cover two-thirds of the width. They look strong and soft at the same time.

“Wow,” Yeosang breathes.

Jongho lets out a low chuckle. “You flatter me.”

“I wanna—can I just—” Yeosang gives into his instincts and starts mouthing at the skin of Jongho’s thighs. He can’t help it. They feel even more plush than they looked, flesh easily giving in to the press of Yeosang’s lips. Yeosang’s mouth opens and opens, eventually exposing his teeth to leave gentle bites across Jongho’s skin.

Yeosang keeps mouthing and biting until his nose presses against Jongho’s half-hard cock, hidden under his briefs. Yeosang moves like he’s possessed, letting his face lay against the outline of Jongho’s cock and inhaling deeply.

Fuck, his smell, Yeosang thinks. It’s enough to get him fully hard.

Jongho breathes out, his hand coming up to bury itself in Yeosang’s hair. “You like that, baby?”

Yeosang answers by continuing to mouth around Jongho’s cock through his underwear.

“I’m negative, but,” Jongho says, “do you want me to wear a condom?”

Oh, Yeosang thinks, trying his best to think clearly. Right. Condoms. He had gotten tested before meeting Jongho as well and was also, predictably, clean. The responsible thing would be to use a condom but…Yeosang really wanted Jongho to come inside him at some point.

“I'm okay without,” Yeosang says. “I’m also negative.” Having had enough preamble, he pulls Jongho’s briefs down.

Jongho’s cock springs out, thick and hot and heavy in front of Yeosang’s face. It was just like what Yeosang had seen in his pictures and videos but now that it was right in front of him, Yeosang could only stare, mouth agape.

“Everything okay?” Jongho asks, his tone light and teasing.

“You’re so big,” Yeosang says in awe, hands coming up to stroke Jongho’s cock. Yeosang’s fingers can still reach around Jongho’s girth but only just about.

Jongho groans in arousal. “I was about to tell you you can go slow, baby, don’t try to take it all at once.”

Yeosang nods again, leaning in to put his mouth around Jongho’s cockhead. Yeosang was right before, about having to open his mouth a little wider just to get it to fit. He sucks on the head, stroking the shaft, as he works up to sink lower. The smell from earlier is only more intense now that it’s on his tongue and all over the inside of his mouth. He wants more.

He closes his eyes and gets his mouth down maybe halfway around Jongho’s shaft. He can feel his drool leaking from his mouth around Jongho’s cock.

Trying to copy what he’s seen in porn, Yeosang starts moving his head up and down steadily, stopping when his mouth feels stuffed full but incrementally pushing his limit with every sink down. He quickly grasps how to loosen up his throat and go further down on Jongho’s cock.

“Fuck,” Jongho says. “Taking me so well, my baby. You feel so good. Do you think I can fuck your throat like this.”

Yeosang opens his mouth wider, swallowing even more, hoping Jongho takes it as a yes.

Jongho tightens his fingers around Yeosang’s hair, gripping hard enough for his scalp to sting. He starts thrusting into Yeosang’s mouth, guiding him by the fistful of his hair to take Jongho even deeper.

Yeosang is so overwhelmed, it’s so much, he feels so used, like he’s just a plaything. It feels good.

Jongho goes faster and within a few more thrusts Yeosang messes up the timing of his breaths. He starts to gag, the noises his throat makes as Jongho fucks his cock through it sounding disgustingly hot. Yeosang braces his hands on Jongho’s thighs, about to reach his limit, tears spilling down his cheeks, jaw beginning to ache. He feels Jongho ram his cock down his throat one last time, holding Yeosang’s head to make sure he’s taking it, then roughly pulls him off.

Yeosang coughs and splutters as Jongho’s fist keeps him upright by his hair. Yeosang can’t get his eyes to focus, still blurry with tears.

Jongho lets him go to wipe at his tears with his thumbs. He leans down and kisses Yeosang, deep and filthy.

“You look so good right now, baby,” Jongho says when he pulls away. With nothing supporting Yeosang, he slumps forward against Jongho’s thighs, his hard cock pressing against Yeosang’s face. Jongho pets his hair. “All pathetic just having my cock down your throat. I knew your mouth would feel so good and I was right.”

Jongho gives Yeosang’s head a few pats. “Bed now, baby. Can you stand up?”

Yeosang makes to stand but finds that his legs have fallen asleep. “Sorry, I—” he says weakly, "I can't, my legs—”

“That's okay,” Jongho says. He easily scoops Yeosang up in his arms in a bridal carry, laying him down gently on the bed. Jongho discards his shirt, tossing it aside. Yeosang’s next exhale gets stuck in his throat on its way out.

Finally, he was able to see Jongho’s bare skin across his broad torso, the soft curves at his chest and stomach. Yeosang wanted to hold him, wrap his arms around Jongho’s thick, sturdy waist, cup his hands under his pecs, grab palmfuls of the flesh on his hips. Yeosang likes how much of him there is to hold, how big every part of him would feel if he tried to fit him in his grip.

Jongho reaches for the bottle of lube on constant display on Yeosang’s bedside table, not needing to be stashed away for the sake of prudence in an unshared living space. He pops the cap and starts coating his hand in lube.

“Gonna open you up now, baby,” he says, kneeling between Yeosang’s spread legs. “Just like we always do, right?”

Except it isn’t because Jongho is here now to open Yeosang up for him. In the flesh like Yeosang had wanted. His breathing speeds up in anticipation.

“Hold your legs up for me, baby, so I can see your pretty hole.”

Yeosang hooks his hands behind his knees obediently, exposing himself to Jongho.

Jongho places his dry hand on Yeosang’s thigh to steady himself, then suddenly drops his head to press the flat of his tongue against Yeosang’s hole, licking a line up to his balls.

Yeosang whimpers involuntarily, the sensation taking him by surprise, making him almost lose his grip on his legs.

Jongho presses a wet kiss directly on Yeosang’s hole and straightens back up.

“Sorry, baby, I just couldn’t resist,” Jongho says. “I could fucking eat you out right now until you come. You want that? Or do you want my cock more?”

Yeosang is at a loss, wanting both but wanting Jongho’s cock a little more. “Want your cock.”

“Of course, baby. Don’t worry, we have all the time in the world for me to eat you out later.”

Jongho presses his lube-wet thumb around the outside of Yeosang’s hole, massaging the area in small, arousing circles.

“Gonna start now,” Jongho says, one of his fingers slipping easily into Yeosang’s hole.

Yeosang shudders, the new sensation of someone else’s finger inside him catching him off guard.

Jongho massages the finger inside him at a relaxed pace. Once he can feel the give of Yeosang’s hole, he adds another finger.

“J-Jongho,” Yeosang whines.

“Yes, baby.”

“Can you be closer to me?” Yeosang asks. “Just a little.”

Jongho moves closer, still on his knees, but having his thighs bracketing Yeosang’s body. He slides his free hand up the exposed underside of Yeosang’s thigh, uses it to support his weight as he leans over, kissing Yeosang as he continues fingering him.

Yeosang breaks the kiss to tell Jongho between breaths, “Jongho, I—ever since you showed me your cock for the first time—I’ve been stretching my hole open for you every night—with the biggest toy I have—knew I had to be ready for you when we met—had to make sure you could fit in my tight hole—”

Jongho gives him a gentle smile. “You're so good to me, baby.” He inserts a third finger inside Yeosang, leaving him gasping at the stretch. “Wish I could have seen you fucking yourself onto your toy all those times. And to think that it was all for me.” 

Jongho crooks his fingers inside Yeosang and nails his prostate. a drawn-out moan escapes his throat. Yeosang’s hips jerk up and he comes all over himself. Jongho just lets it happen, hands firmly anchoring Yeosang’s body. 

“I don’t deserve you,” says Jongho.

“Jongho, Jongho,” Yeosang whines. “I’m sorry, s-sorry—”

Jongho shushes him. “What did I say, baby. We aren’t finished yet.” 

Jongho leans down to kiss him again, letting Yeosang wrap his arms around his neck.

They kiss deeply for a few brief seconds, then Jongho extricates himself from his hold. 

“Just one more finger, baby,” Jongho says, putting it in as he speaks. “‘Cause I'm a little bigger. I don't want to hurt you.”

Yeosang feels so full and sensitive, but he lets Jongho take care of him, thighs shaking as he continues massaging Yeosang’s insides, adding more lube as his fingers go in and out.

“Ready, I'm ready,” Yeosang says desperately. “Jongho, please.”

Jongho slowly removes his fingers from inside of Yeosang, dragging them meanly against his walls on the way out. He runs a finger along Yeosang’s recently spent cock. The rest of his body twitches.

“You're still soft, baby. Are you sure?”

“Need you inside, now, Jongho, please.”

“Okay, baby, you’re asking so nicely.” 

Jongho spreads more lube on his cock, stroking it up and down until its entire length is wet. He grinds his cock along Yeosang’s hole, making him shudder even more.

“Going in now, baby.”

“Yes, yes, Jongho, please.”

Jongho presses the head of his cock into Yeosang’s hole. 

“H—ah—” Yeosang struggles as Jongho’s cockhead stretches him open, fingers gripping hard at Jongho’s shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

It’s different from taking his fingers, different from using a dildo. Jongho’s cock is so hot and so big as it enters him.

“J-Jongho,” Yeosang whimpers.

Jongho stills inside him, pausing to wipe Yeosang’s tears with his thumb. “It's about halfway, baby. You wanna stop first?”

Yeosang doesn’t know if there’s even space inside him for more of Jongho to fit. “N-no, i want it, want it, please.”

“Okay, baby, I'll keep going.” Jongho steadily pushes the rest of his cock into Yeosang, planting a few kisses on his cheeks and neck as he cries out.

Jongho finally bottoms out. Yeosang can feel the hot weight of his balls rest against his ass. Yeosang’s cock twitches, slowly hardening with his arousal.

“I’ll move now, yeah?” Jongho asks.

Yeosang nods but reaches to pull Jongho closer, kissing him as he pulls out and pushes back in at a steady pace.

Yeosang moans into Jongho’s mouth as he fucks him properly, speeding up when Yeosang seems to adjust to the stretch and the feeling. 

With every thrust, Yeosang feels so fucking full and hot and open. His body feels like a live wire. All he can do is just lie there and take it.

“Fuck,” Jongho says. “Gonna come soon, baby. Where do you want it.”

“Inside, please, inside,” Yeosang begs.

“Fuck,” Jongho says again, lifting himself up to rail Yeosang from on his knees. He holds Yeosang down by his chest, but his hands slowly travel upwards with every jostle of Yeosang’s body from his strong thrusts. They end up at the base of his neck; not choking, just holding Yeosang down under his palms by the area around the clavicle.

Yeosang circles his own hands around Jongho’s forearms, just wanting to touch him and also liking how strong his muscles feel under his hands.

Yeosang is also close, turned on by the sheer intensity of all the new sensations he's feeling, how heavy Jongho’s hands are on his body, how strongly he thrusts into him, how deep his cock goes inside him.

Yeosang comes again, body jerking around Jongho’s cock.

Jongho delivers a few more quick thrusts before burying himself deep inside Yeosang to come inside him.

Fuck, Yeosang thinks. Fuck.

He feels Jongho emptying his cock inside him, hot and wet. He can’t stop shaking at how it feels. It's so disgusting but it's so, so good.

Jongho exhales heavily, pulling out of Yeosang. Yeosang whines, trying to lift his arms to signal to Jongho to stay close to him, but he’s too weak.

“I’ll be there soon, baby,” Jongho says. “You wait for me.”

In his half-conscious state, Yeosang is left puzzled at what could possibly be more important than cuddling him post-coitus. He senses Jongho move lower down the bed. He lifts Yeosang’s legs gently (ow) and lowers his head down to where Yeosang’s hole is.

“J-Jongho—” Yeosang begins to say, but is cut off by Jongho pressing his tongue flat against his entrance.

Yeosang’s head falls back, his whole body not knowing what to do with itself. He feels Jongho’s tongue stiffen and push inside him.

The feeling makes Yeosang’s spine arch, his voice coming out as garbled nonsense.

Jongho tries to drive his tongue as deep as it can go, like he’s trying to clean Yeosang of all the cum inside him, pushing his tongue against his walls so Yeosang can really feel it. He seals his lips around Yeosang’s hole and sucks.

Yeosang squirms desperately. “Jongho—!”

Finally, Jongho releases Yeosang, letting him fall limp on the bed.

Yeosang feels Jongho get off the mattress. Where is he going, he thinks groggily. How dare he continue to deny me my cuddles—

He hears Jongho open his bathroom door, rifle around for a bit, turn on the faucet and off again, and come back out.

The mattress dips when Jongho gets back on the bed. Yeosang jumps a little at the feeling of a damp cloth running over his skin. 

That’s so nice of him, is the last thing Yeosang thinks before falling asleep.

—

It's really warm when Yeosang’s body gently rouses him from sleep. He's never woken up and been this warm before.

It's warm because Yeosang wakes up against Jongho’s chest, with Jongho’s arms around him. He can feel Jongho’s hand on his shoulder, lightly tracing patterns into Yeosang’s skin with his thumb. It feels so good, all of it. Yeosang never knew waking up could be like this—perfect.

“How long have you been up,” Yeosang mumbles, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes.

“Not very long,” replies Jongho. “You sleep okay?”

“Like a baby.” Yeosang turns his head to press a kiss against the skin of Jongho’s chest. 

“And how’s your body?” Jongho asks. His arms tighten around Yeosang as Yeosang continues trailing kisses up his chest and neck.

Huh. How is Yeosang’s body? Everything hurt quite a bit, especially his ass. He might just stay in bed the whole day, regardless of whether or not Jongho chose to stay. He supposes that was pretty normal, wasn’t it? Considering last night…

Yeosang presses one last kiss to Jongho’s cheek. “Little sore,” he says, “but I'll survive.”

“Sorry.” Jongho gives him an apologetic look, his hand coming up to rub at Yeosang’s back.

“Don't be,” Yeosang says. “I—I liked it.” He talks a big game in the heat of the moment but in the soft light of the morning-after, Yeosang’s words are clumsy. “Definitely beats just getting each other off online.”

“I’m glad.” Jongho smiles. “I don't really know how I measure up to anyone else you’ve been with but I just hope I wasn't the worst.”

“Actually—” In a moment of vulnerable candor, Yeosang decides to tell Jongho the truth. “You're my first,” he admits hesitantly.

It wasn't that big of a deal to Yeosang. It was just another degree of the exploration of his body. There was a whole world of difference having penetrative sex with another person, but what did it matter? Yeosang tried it, he enjoyed it, and he wanted more of it.

Yeosang already knows he’s made a mistake when he feels Jongho go still underneath him.

“Hey,” Yeosang says as Jongho moves to sit up. Worry threatens to grab hold of him, but Yeosang tries to keep things light. “What’s wrong?”

“I was your first,” Jongho says tonelessly. He doesn't look at Yeosang.

“Yes,” whispers Yeosang.

“You didn’t think it was important to tell me you were a virgin?”

“It’s not—”

For the first time since they’d met, Jongho raises his voice. Not by much, but it’s enough. “Of course it is, I could have—” He stops himself mid-sentence and lowers his voice again. “I could have taken care of you.”

Yeosang doesn’t understand what Jongho is saying, which he didn’t think could ever happen.

He takes Jongho’s face in his hands, gently. “Hey,” Yeosang says. “Look at me.”

Slowly but firmly, Jongho takes Yeosang’s hands off of him and puts them aside.

“Jongho,” Yeosang pleads. He hears the underlying panic rising in his own voice.

Jongho leans over to retrieve his clothes from the floor, beginning to get dressed. “I just—” he says, “I think I just need some time.”

“Jongho, I'm sorry,” Yeosang says, near tears. “I should have told you, I'm sorry. Please don’t leave.”

With barely a glance behind him, Jongho leaves Yeosang in his apartment, alone.

A sob escapes Yeosang in spite of himself. What had just happened? He was having the perfect night and the perfect morning with someone he really, really liked. He couldn’t even understand what had ruined it. He couldn't even tell if he was crying because it hurt or because he was frustrated or some horrible combination of the two. How could it end up like this?

Squinting through his tears, he pats around the sheets desperately, searching for his phone. Bedside table, the more rational part of his brain reminds him. He snatches it off the table, unsteady fingers preventing him from unlocking it in one go.

He opens up his Twitter account, scrambling to find his message thread with Jongho.

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] jongho

please let’s talk

jongho please talk to me

( Message failed to send )

( Message failed to send )

( Message failed to send )

“No,” Yeosang groans, exasperated. He tries opening Jongho’s profile.

( Something went wrong. )

[ Try again ]

Jongho had deactivated his account. Yeosang had never gotten to ask for his phone number.

Yeosang’s phone falls onto the soft sheets with a light thump. He puts his head in his hands. “Fuck.”

Yeosang cries the whole morning.

—

The work week passes by with Yeosang in a daze.

It had always been easy for him to compartmentalize emotion, to put aside the difficult feelings in favor of answering the demands of adult life that waited for no one. Pushing emotion to the back of his mind had never been a problem. Except now…

Now every time Yeosang’s mind inevitably wanders back to Jongho, it feels like touching an open wound. Yeosang catches himself outwardly wincing more than a few times.

Pausing at his keyboard, he presses his hands to his face to alleviate the discomfort somehow. In the darkness of his mind’s eye, he just keeps seeing Jongho in flashes and sensations—how he looked, how he felt and sounded…smelled…tasted—

Yeosang stands up so abruptly at his desk that his coworkers closest to him shoot him looks of concern. Yeosang gives a small, apologetic bow and exits the scene, muttering something about needing to go to the bathroom.

The eleventh floor bathroom nearest to the fire exit was usually a safe bet for when Yeosang wanted to be alone. When the door shuts behind him, he sinks into a squat in the middle of the tiled floor, arms curled around his knees. He lets his closed eyes rest against his arms.

Like an old television switching on, Jongho appears in his mind again. Jongho and his beautiful smile and gentle eyes. Yeosang squeezes his eyes shut tightly. He doesn’t have any pictures of Jongho’s face. This is the only way Yeosang can see him.

It hurt, it hurt so, so much. The admission spills over the brim of Yeosang’s thoughts like an overflowing cup. He doesn’t know if it feels better or worse to finally be honest about it.

Jongho was perfect for him in every way, Yeosang was so sure of it. He liked him more than he had liked any person in his lifetime and now Yeosang had made a mistake and ruined it forever. He had ruined it so badly, Jongho wouldn’t even speak to him.

Everyone was always looking for a reset button, wanting an instant do-over—to try again. He understood them now. Yeosang was used to having to move on, to accept his fuck-ups as they were and to get over them quickly and efficiently. Now he had lost something that he needed to get back or he would never move past it.

“Please,” Yeosang says out loud, his voice echoing back at him in the empty bathroom. “please just give me another chance.”

—

Yeosang hadn’t been sleeping well, to say the least. It would take him forever to get settled now, and once he did, racing thoughts would plague his mind and make it impossible to fall asleep. Even after the exhaustion of it all forced him to finally sink into unconsciousness, any disturbance, however slight, would jolt him back awake. And so the cycle repeated.

At four-thirty in the morning, the vibration of his phone startles Yeosang from his sleep. Not wanting to move at first, he just squints at the offending notification from his pillow. It looks…it looks a lot like—

Yeosang’s hand shoots out to grab his phone. It's a notification that he’s received a message from someone on Twitter. 

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] hello?

are you there?

It takes Yeosang a full two minutes to fully process that this was happening in reality. Jongho was messaging him.

For his peace of mind, Yeosang had always had the read receipts setting on Twitter switched off. Jongho doesn’t know he’s reading his messages in real time.

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] what am i saying

it’s like 4:30 am

i hope you’re not there, you should be asleep

and i hope you’re asleep enough that my stupid messages aren’t waking you

i don’t know if

i’m just bringing you trouble again

hyung i

i’m so sorry

i didn’t mean to leave things like that

i was just having some complicated feelings

and i think if i stayed longer

i would have said some hurtful things i didn’t mean

i wanted to speak to you sooner but i just

didn’t know what to say

work got in the way too

i feel like i’m just making excuses

maybe i am

there was no good reason for me to have left things the way i did

Jongho doesn’t send another message after a few minutes. Yeosang doesn’t know if that was the end of it.

There’s nothing for it. Yeosang can’t go back to sleep after all that. 

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] did you really hate it that much

me being a virgin

He doesn’t get a reply for a bit, until—

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] of course not

i’m sorry hyung i really looked like an asshole didn’t i

i was…mad at myself for not being more careful with you

and i was scared that you didn’t see me as something…serious enough to share that with

that it was your first time

like

i don’t know

like i was just some guy on your checklist you were just going to one and done

that’s what went on in my head

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] what do you mean

something serious???

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] hyung you matter so much to me

i know it’s all just words to you coming from someone you met online

and especially because i’m saying this through text of all places

but

i like you so so much

i wanna keep seeing you

regularly

i wanna take you out on dates and be your boyfriend

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] jongho

[ twt_dm: dearteddybear ] yes?

[ twt_dm: puppyb0y ] you’d better have my address memorized

—

Yeosang waits at the front of his apartment. It's a quiet Sunday morning. The crisp air is still, lying undisturbed even by the early risers. Not a car passes by, nor a wandering bird. So when Yeosang sees movement at the corner of his eye, his attention snaps right to it.

In the distance, a man in a familiar coat walks up his street, toward Yeosang’s direction. It's him.

Jongho reaches where Yeosang is standing, a warm smile lighting up his face all the while. He doesn’t say anything at first, just takes Yeosang’s hands in his. His are warmer than Yeosang’s, even if Yeosang had been keeping them in the pockets of his jacket the whole time.

“Don't run away from me again,” Yeosang says sternly, trying his best not to pout like a child. He may or may not be succeeding.

Jongho grins at him sheepishly. “I'm sorry, my love.”

“I missed you so much,” Yeosang mumbles, looking at their hands. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all week. How could you think I wouldn't want something serious with you?”

As he speaks, Jongho lifts Yeosang’s hands to press his lips against them, then pulls them to loop around his neck so Jongho can gently tug Yeosang towards him by his waist.

“I will spend all my waking hours making it up to you,” Jongho says as Yeosang looks up at him.

“Oh yeah? How?”

Jongho leans in to kiss him, brief and sweet.

“That's all?” Yeosang says archly, pretending he isn’t affected by Jongho’s taste and Jongho’s smell and the way Jongho’s body is so warm and inviting under his touch. 

“I mean, there’s more but it would be a little indecent out here on the sidewalk, no?”

“Do you maybe wanna come inside?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Notes:

Thank you for reading!