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a week.
it had only been a week since seongjun joined the already established swim team. and yet, he has proven himself from the moment he walked into the locker room, his stats already higher than anybody else there.
nobody came close except….well, except kang wooyoung. an underclassmen, one year below him. seongjun didn’t know it was possible to hate someone before they even introduced themself, but seongjun has despised wooyoung since their first interaction.
wooyoung had been in the corner that day, staring, and watching him closely like he wasn't supposed to be there. he looked at seongjun as if he didn’t have a place there, like he didn’t earn his spot on the team. he was sizing him up, eyes lingering and dark. his gaze was sharp like he was trying to figure him out. and despite all the other guys in the room crowding seongjun, introducing themselves, all seongjun could focus on was wooyoung.
the tension between them felt hot, like it was burning a hole into his insides. it was like they were the only ones in the room. it was as if wooyoung couldn’t stand the attention seongjun was getting from everyone.
then, wooyoung had taken it upon himself to introduce himself, a shameless cocky grin on his face. he took one hand out of his pocket to put out in front of him, expecting for seongjun to take it.
seongjun knew, just felt it.
this punk would be giving him absolute fucking hell.
seongjun knew this was the time to stand his ground.
so, he ignored wooyoung’s hand, and watches as he scoffed in disbelief at the response. then, seongjun speaks, as disinterested as possible.
“im kang seongjun, but you know that already.” seongjun says, not even bothering to look at him. he wanted wooyoung to know that he wouldn’t be playing this game.
he refused.
wooyoung’s smile drops and so does his hand at seongjun’s tone of his voice, the absolute disinterest seongjun had in him. it made his chest feel hot, stomach aching with displeasure. this fucking bastard walks in here like he owns the place then has the nerve to ignore him?
fuck that.
wooyoung watches seongjun for a second longer, the way his black hair frames his face, parted in the middle. the way his eyes are narrow, dark and wooyoung gaze shifts up slowly from the floor to his feet, eyes dragging up seongjun’s body, six feet and broad shoulders.
then, wooyoung doesn’t say a thing, just looks seongjun dead in his eyes with a boiling anger, not getting the reaction he desired.
he walks away.
now, seongjun has been there only a week, and he’s been able to avoid him as much as possible, he thought maybe he could do this forever.
he was wrong.
wooyoung has started pushing him and gauging his reaction, like he’s a test subject. he’s constantly seeing how much seongjun could take before he would snap. his mouth barks out smart remarks, he even gets into seongjun’s personal space on purpose.
just like now, wooyoung has spotted him amongst his teammates. seongjun’s dark eyes meet the brunettes for just a second. he never lets his gaze last longer than that because he knows it’s what wooyoung wants. he wants him to look at him. to give him attention. he finds it harder now, since wooyoung is shirtless, gym shorts low on his hips and his buff body on display. but, seongjun powers through the urge to….look.
he sit down. it’s way too close and every time he’s near, just like now, seongjun feels this burning heat building up that he couldn’t quite explain. he hates it.
wooyoung leans back, spreads those pretty tanned legs of his like seongjun isn’t sitting right next to him. his leg presses right against his as they sit together, skin against skin so electric seongjun almost flinches. he can feel it, wooyoung’s brown eyes staring at him as he chats with a teammate of theirs. he ignores it, ignores his burning gaze.
every time wooyoung’s gaze lands on him, he couldn’t help this aching stir in his gut, fighting the urge to meet his sultry eyes.
it makes his nerves go crazy, and he couldn’t swallow down the annoying feeling no matter how badly he tries.
wooyoung has this aura about him, it reeks of defiance…and sex. he walks around here half naked just as the rest of them do, but with him it feels different. bare. open. lustful.
seongjun tries to pay him no mind, he really does. he’s good at that, ignoring a problem until he couldn’t anymore. but wooyoung, he knew exactly how to get under his skin in a way that made it impossible for seongjun to just move on with his life without him constantly on his mind.
seongjun wouldn’t stand for this. couldn’t. so, he would do what could. find out what makes wooyoung lose composure, and use it against him until he surrenders in this tortuous game he forced them into.
the conversation ends, wooyoung scrolls mindlessly on his phone beside him. and seongjun’s gaze pans down to their laps.
wooyoung is manspreading, black shorts sliding higher upon his thick thighs and seongjun swallows dryly. his eyes trail up, slow, dragging, from his black sneakers to his calves, then slides back over to his thighs. their unblemished, and his legs are spread so prettily that seongjun feels the air leave his lungs.
now, he knows he’s staring, and he knows wooyoung must have caught on by now if the way he’s stopped scrolling tells it all. but, seongjun just can’t….stop. his eyes keep on betraying him, staring at the way wooyoung’s abs are so prominent and then…his best. his perky big chest.
his collarbones are the next victim to his gaze, and it isn’t long before they reach his face, his lips and then…..his eyes.
when seongjun reaches them, wooyoung is already looking at him. and he has a fucking wide cocky grin stretched on his lips, like he just knows what thoughts are racing in seongjun’s filthy mind.
seongjun gets up like he’s just been burned and goes somewhere else—somewhere where wooyoung isn’t. fuck. he needs to get ahold of himself.
practice begins and ends, feeling longer than normal today.
they are all piling back into the locker room, and wooyoung passes by, laughing with their teammates and then seongjun feels it.
he shoulder bumps him.
hard.
seongjun stops in his tracks, shakes his head in disbelief, and put water on the burning flame of rage that was fueling up inside of him. he has been on edge and so tense every time the pretty bastard would come into the room.
it wasn’t the fact that he didn’t like him that makes seongjun so mad. it was the fact that at first wooyoung tried to play innocent, so victim, as if he was hiding it so well in the first place. as if seongjun didn't know what he was up to. that is what pisses him off the most.
then, when he stops hiding it, that's when seongjun really thought he would lose his mind. once wooyoung realized that first day that seongjun wouldn’t play his game, he acted out so immaturely, almost as if throwing a tantrum.
if seongjun wouldn’t cave in to the little game he was playing on his own accord, he would leave him no choice but to play.
-
it’s late at night, well evening time, but late to be here. seongjun had stayed behind, to get some extra laps in. he thought he was alone, but to his surprise he can hear it.
the shower is running.
seongjun sighs, changing out of his wet swim shorts and into a t shirt and shorts. he’d rather shower at home right now anyways and he’s fucking starving.
then, he remembers. he left his school ID in the back office…..past the showers. so, he walks, sneakers on his feet and wondering who it is that’s staying so late. none of the guys ever hung around long.
he can’t help his curious, it’s innocent. well, at least it starts out that way.
he walks past, merely glances until he sees who it is standing under the hot steady stream of water.
kang wooyoung.
fuck.
he’s naked……bare, and dripping wet. his back is turned to seongjun, perky ass on display, and back muscles flexing as he holds his arms above his head, washing his hair, and soap suds slide down the tanned skin of his body.
seongjun is frozen in place.
he knows it’s wrong. he knows he shouldn’t be doing this, should move his feet and walk away before wooyoung notices his presence.
but, he can’t.
because wooyoung’s hands slide down his abdomen, gliding the liquid soap across his skin and rubbing over his toned abs. seongjun swallows hard, fingers twitching at his sides and wills himself to keep his composure.
another few moments pass and wooyoung turns to him, just a bit. he can’t see the manhood that lies between his thighs but he can make out the sharp carve of wooyoung’s back, that sinful waist of his.
he doesn’t even flinch.
seongjun comes to the realization quickly.
wooyoung knew…..he knew he had been watching him.
their eyes meet for a brief moment and wooyoung is actually the one who looks away first. seongjun has noticed this, wooyoung’s prideful demeanor always seems to falter whenever his gaze meets his.
seongjun still can’t find himself unable to defend himself or move his feet. this brat knows exactly what he’s doing, seongjun thinks to himself in pure disbelief.
the shower knob squeaks, the water stops, and wooyoung shakes his hair out like a wet dog. seongjun is so close that water droplets land on his sneakers, evidence of his shameful endeavor.
he grabs a towel, keeps his back turned as he ties it around his waist. the air is heavy between them as wooyoung walks up to him, he looks off the side at nothing in particular before speaking.
“knew you were an asshole but i didn’t take you for a perv too.” wooyoung mumbles out, carding fingers through his wet hair.
“i wasn’t—“ seongjun begins a weak defense. it wouldn’t matter anyway.
they both knew he had been watching, and it wasn’t a quick glance, an accident. no, he had been staring, mesmerizing every inch of wooyoung’s body.
“save it.” wooyoung shuts him down, breathing out a bitter chuckle, dimples showing.
he has seongjun right where he wants him.
“hey. don’t walk away from me.” seongjun breaks, that rage igniting inside of him. he reaches out, grabbing wooyoung’s bare bicep.
wooyoung has practically been throwing himself at him, baiting him like a worm on a hook. setting the trap.
how can he act like this now? like he didn’t serve himself up on a silver platter and then get upset with seongjun for wanting to eat what’s being offered up.
he feels so conflicted, stuck between annoyance and lust. wooyoung is a menace, pushes his buttons, and isn’t subtle about his clear dislike for him and yet he also does shit like this. he wants seongjun to look at him, to feel his skin against his, and bask in any attention he gives him.
seongjun has thought he’s done a good job, not giving in. but, somehow he found himself caught in wooyoung’s trap like a fly in a web. he couldn’t control himself, his lust, and his natural instincts. and because of this, wooyoung has the upper hand.
he will fix this.
“what do you want? you want to stare at me like a creep again? is that it?” wooyoung taunts him, pulling his arm out of his grip and taking advantage of the situation he’s trapped seongjun in.
but, seongjun doesn’t let up, no. his sneaker covered feet move forward and every step he takes, wooyoung takes a step back. seongjun tests his theory, stares right at wooyoung who can’t hold his gaze, his eyes darting anywhere else but the handsome darker haired man in front of him.
wooyoung keeps backing up until his back hits the cold tile of the shower wall. his heart beat thumps so loud he almost thinks seongjun will be able to hear it. a heat builds up between them and wooyoung has a mix of fear and anticipation racing through him at what seongjun’s next move will be.
seongjun leans foward, so fucking close that wooyoung can pratically feel his body heat on him. something about him being half naked and seongjun being fully clothed sends a certain chill down his spine. he leans in, his lips brushing wooyoung’s face. wooyoung panics, his hand slides between them, firmly pressing against seongjun’s shoulder.
“what are you—“ wooyoung stutters out, wet hair fanning his face.
“fuck, i knew it.” seongjun breathes out in disbelief. “i knew you were all talk.” he pulls away completely, leaving wooyoung with the ghost of his body heat.
wooyoung pushes him away hard now, clearly embarrassed at how easily he submits to seongjun. he can’t even meet seongjun’s amused gaze. his pride has been hurt and he needs to regain control. seongjun knows now, that he has an effect on him, that wooyoung can’t even bare to meet his fucking eyes because of how ridiculously small he feels under his narrowed gaze.
“fuck off, seongjun.” wooyoung responds weakly, no bite in his voice for once.
“i will.” seongjun gives a laugh. “for now.” he says.
he moves out of the tiled shower completely, giving wooyoung a final once over before he heads into the office grabs his ID, and gathers his things before leaving.
wooyoung sighs out, running hands through his hair and ignoring how hard he is underneath the small white towel.
“fuck.” he whispers out into the empty locker room.
-
two days pass and practice is once again today. he feels pretty good, worked on an assignment last night and went to bed at a reasonable time.
warm.
the water is warm around seongjun as he strokes his arms against the water, splashing back against him as he finishes up his last lap. he gets out of the pool gracefully, wet swimming shorts clinging tight on his skin. water droplets stick to his body as he grabs a towel, wiping his face.
seongjun throws the towel over his shoulder, running a hand through the dark hair as he makes his way into the empty locker room.
it was 5am, two hours before practice really began. and yet, seongjun found himself unable to sleep. he has to be better, always has to excel at whatever he put his mind to. so, if that means he has to put in a few extra hours of practice. he would do it in a heartbeat.
seongjun sits on the cold silver bench, changes into boxer briefs before he keeps towel drying a bit more of his hair until he is fully satisfied.
“of course you’re here.” a familiar voice calls out through the silence.
seongje looks up at the sound of the voice, echoing in the emptiness of the room. seongje pulls the towel away from his hair, not even having to think twice about who the voice belonged to.
kang wooyoung.
of course it’s him.
seongjun sighs, throwing the towel down next to him on the bench.
wooyoung stands in front of him, short black gym shorts on, the same ones that caused seongnjun to malfunction just days before. they sit high on his legs and a black compression t-shirt to match that frames his big chest perfectly. his arms were crossed, that stupid shit eating grin on his face.
“and why are you here?” seongjun raises an eyebrow, the room suddenly feeling warm.
“same reason you are.” wooyoung snorts, walking closer to seongjun before taking a seat on the bench next to him, just because he wants to. just because he knew seongjun is already bothered by his presence.
seongjun merely glances next to him. the brown eyed boy is still smiling at him, that smug look on his face starting a fire inside seongjun’s chest. seongjun isn’t in the mood. his skin is already feeling prickly, heartbeat becoming faster, and body temperature rising.
wooyoung’s entire presence just….fucks him over. he hates it. he hates how the younger man got under his skin, always makes a fool out of him whenever he gives him the reaction he wants.
“and what reason is that?” seongjun asks, keeping his eyes on the wall in front of them. he doesn’t even spare wooyoung a look longer than a passing second.
“get a few extra laps in so i can say im better than everyone else here.” wooyoung replies casually, like there wasn't a sharp aggression behind his words. he strips himself of his shirt, tossing it aside next to him. seongjun ignores it, ignores the way his eyes so desperately want to trace down. wooyoung’s big bare chest.
seongjun feels his blood begin to boil as he bites his lip so hard he thinks he might draw blood. he takes a breath, and feels the way the room gets hotter. wooyoung keeps his lingering gaze on him…..waiting. waiting for the reaction he so desperately wants.
wooyoung takes in his appearance, bare upper body, chest dripping with droplets of water matching the wet strands of his hair. you can really see the sharpness of his gaze. wooyoung licks his lips, feels the way his body heats up when seongjun begins to grow irritated. it means one thing. that wooyoung is accomplishing exactly what he wants.
getting under seongjun’s skin once again.
that means that seongjun is effected by him in some way, just like what happened in the showers. his presence in seongjun’s life had meaning. it means that seongjun can’t ignore him the way he's been trying so hard to do lately.
seongjun sighs and just stands up, beginning to rummage through his gym bag for a shirt as he feels wooyoung’s gaze burn a hole in the side of his face. he wouldn’t bother spending anymore time here than he had to since wooyoung is here. he would just go for a run or something. something to get all this pent up energy out of his system before practice.
“leaving already?” wooyoung asks him, followed with a small laugh, and seongjun feels his chest burn at the taunt.
“fuck off.” seongjun bites back.
he grows frustrated, not even sparing him a single glance as he tries to find his shirt in his bag.
where the fuck did he put it?
seongjun acts as if he’s talking to a ghost. and that…really pisses wooyoung off.
wooyoung retaliates immediately, pushing seongjun’s gym bag onto the floor roughly.
seongjun stares at the black duffle bag on the floor, his clothes spilled out on the ground. a familiar hot rage fills inside of him as he moves fast like a burst of wind before he even gets a chance to think. he reaches down without much thought. he grabs wooyoung by his upper arm and drags him a few feet away, pushing him roughly against the white tiled wall with a thump.
“throwing a tantrum? you’re fucking embarrassing.” wooyoung chokes out a taunt, groaning out a bit when seongjun uses his forearm on his chest to press him tighter against the wall.
“what the fuck is your problem?” seongjun grits out.
wooyoung smiles back in response, pained smile as he squirms. he tries to unpin himself from the wall. but seongjun—his forearm is pressing firmly against his chest, right under his neck. he can’t move an inch.
“you.” wooyoung answers, smile dropping.
his eyes scan seongjun’s face, it’s the first time seongjun has even looked at him this long, probably ever. and it’s only because of the situation they're in now.
“you’re my fucking problem.” wooyoung says with equal force to his words, eyes gazing deep into seongjun’s.
“you think you’re better than everyone. better than /me/. you come in here everyday acting like you fucking own the place.” wooyoung admits, adrenaline pumping through him.
seongjun feels the anger inside of him rise steadily. his whole body feels so warm, and his wet hair drips onto his bare shoulders.
“and you won’t—you won’t even look at me. like im trash—gum on the bottom of your fucking shoe. and you’re asking me what my fucking problem is? you should ask yourself that.” wooyoung seethes and seongjun can't believe this.
how didn’t he realize it sooner?
“wow.” seongjun breathes out in realization, a grin spreading wide on his lips.
“so that’s what this is really about.” he says, a heat growing in the pit of his stomach. an excitement underlying his tone.
he scans over wooyoung’s face, whose expression is clear with confusion. his eyebrows furrowed cutely.
seongjun smirks before bringing his knee to force wooyoung’s thick thighs apart. he watches in satisfaction as wooyoung begins to panic, squirming against him harder. his hands weakly grasp at seongjun’s arm, trying to get him to move it off his chest.
“what—what are you—“ wooyoung stumbles out, his brown eyes scanning seongjun’s.
somehow wooyoung’s gaze becomes softer, and seongjun knows his little facade is unraveling with each passing moment.
“if you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask.” seongjun laughs, using his free hand to run his fingers through wooyoung’s hair, brushing it out of his eyes. he watches in satisfaction as the boy goes through a whirlwind of emotions, his gaze not leaving seongjun’s for once.
seongjun is looking down at him as if he’s just won something.
he has.
his grin is wide, and the moment he speaks wooyoung feels a chill run down his spine. he feels like he’s been stripped bare down to his bones. seongjun has figured it out, that all that fake hating him is a part of a bigger motive. he thought he could keep things the way they were, pushing seongjun’s buttons until he snapped.
just maybe….not like this.
“say it. that’s what you want, right?” seongjun beckons him on, quite liking the upper hand he has now.
wooyoung is the quietest he has ever been. he can feel seongjun’s wet chest pressing against his own chest. the pleasure coming from seongjun’s leg pressing against his crotch through the thin material of his shorts makes him feel warm.
“fuck off, seongjun. let me go.” wooyoung breathes out, trying not to move because the more he does, the more friction it creates between seongjun’s leg and his crotch.
“that’s not what you really want, is it?” seongjun smiles, taunts him further.
wooyoung’s cheeks bloom red, a few strands of hair in his eyes. he’s stiff as a board, unmoving. and seongjun knows exactly why that is. who would’ve guessed that this smart mouthed brat actually knows how to shut up? he wants to shut him up in other ways too.
“fuck you.” wooyoung breathes out, obvious embarrassment flushing through his body as his ears turn red. he turns his head away, avoiding seongjun’s gaze.
“yeah?” seongjun asks, a wild look in his eyes.
he gets impossibly closer to him, damp bare chest and toned stomach pressed against him. he can feel seongjun’s abs against his own. seongjun grips his face, forcing his gaze back onto him. he looks at wooyoung, smiling wider at the way wooyoung’s facade starts to come crumbling down with each passing second.
seongjun’s lips brush his ear, and wooyoung feels a warm heat in his stomach, feeling like he’s burning up.
“you’d like that, wouldn't you?” seongjun breathes out in his ear, eyeing every inch of wooyoung’s exposed skin. his collar bones, and the bareness of his neck.
all of it.
“no.” he shakes his head. “because im not into pathetic cocky bastards like you.” wooyoung whispers out, although his shaky voice betrays him.
seongjun thinks it’s cute, almost. but, not quite. because the anger settles back in at the denial, wooyoung can’t even admit it? it pisses him off.
“you’re the fucking pathetic one, you know that? running that filthy mouth of yours to cover up the fact that you want me to fuck you.” seongjun fires out.
“that’s not—“ wooyoung falters as seongjun shifts his leg, presses harder, and he feels a spark of electricity bolt through him. he whines out, eyes clenching shut for a moment and bites his lip to conceal any more noises from escaping his lips. “true.” he strains out.
it isn’t long before he runs his hand up wooyoung’s shirt, who squirms, fingers digging into his arm. seongjun thinks it’s funny, he doesn’t even try to push him away, only acts like it’s what he wants to do.
“wooyoung-ah.” seongjun drawls out, slow and deep.
he leans forward, inches away from the youngers face. he feels time stop. his eyes slide down seongjun’s face, his beauty mark under his eye, the way his damp hair cascades over his eyelashes, and how cold his hands are on his abdomen.
cold hands meet warm toned skin and wooyoung can’t even think straight as seongjun touches him as he pleases, cold fingers glide further up his shirt, kneading his waist and then gripping his chest.
“fucking perv.” wooyoung grits out, trying to ignore how good his large hand feels on him.
he’s imagined this before, so many times. but it’s nothing compared to the real thing. no amount of wet dreams could ever compare to this. the forearm on his chest moves and seongjun now uses his other free hand to touch more—feel more skin.
“maybe i am.” seongjun’s eyes flicker to his eyes, then down to his plump pink lips.
fuck.
seongjun’s hands grope as they please, knee firm between thighs, and he enjoys what he feels beneath his touch. wooyoung’s chest is perky, his nipples hard, and his stomach toned. he feels like a wet fucking dream.
“now, get on your knees and show me how bad you want my cock.” seongjun tells him, his lips brushing against his ear lobe.
“make me, you fucking bastard.” wooyoung breathes out, and he feels the seongje’s wandering hands halt, stopping their movements.
of course. seongjun should've expected this. wooyoung’s unwavering deviance, his need to pretend like he has control, and his one goal still as solid as ever.
to piss seongjun off.
without a second thought one hand presses down on the top of wooyoung’s shoulder, shoving him down on his knees roughly. his other hand grips his long brown tight and he looks down in pure satisfaction as wooyoung winces, face scrunched beautifully in pain, his pretty lips parted.
he forces wooyoung forward and shoves his face right against his clothed cock. wooyoung’s hands scramble at his thighs and he breathes hot breath against his tight boxer briefs.
seongjun is so….big. so hard.
he looks down at him, this look in his eyes, a mix of darkness and lust. he’s been so fed up with wooyoung, the smart comments, the shoves, the clear invasion of his space just to get a rise out of him.
it all comes unraveling to this very moment.
“come on, we don’t have all day.” seongjun grips his hair a little tighter to make a point, pressing his face firmer against his cock.
wooyoung just lets him, fingers pressing into seongje’s skin, so turned on that he can’t even think straight. but, playing hard to get is much more fun. so, he looks up at seongjun through his eyelashes, and bites out a response.
“i said make me.” he grins out teasingly, cheek still pressed against his clothed bulge. it’s so filthy and yet it only does nothing to fuel the lust between them.
“fucking hell.” seongjun breathes out, using his free hand to card through his hair. “brats like you need to be put back in their fucking place.”
he shucks his black briefs down just below his hard cock and wooyoung is still held close, watches as his manhood springs free and fuck…..he’s so big.
“open.” wooyoung feels his abdomen spread with warm hear at the order and yet he still wants to take this further, determined not to give in so easily.
seongjun drags the wet tip of his cock against wooyoung’s pink lips. wooyoung is defiant, keeps his lips tight and seongjun pulls him in closer as he shakes his head in a meaningless disagreement.
“you wanna play? let’s play.” seongjun grins from above him and wooyoung is confused at the sudden change in mood before theres digits pinching his nose stopping his air flow.
“open.” seongjun repeats as wooyoung scrambles against him, fingers digging deeper into the skin of his thighs. it’s no use as seongjun keeps him close by his hair, not letting him move an inch.
wooyoung holds out as long as possible before he opens his mouth, gasping for breath, he gets air in before seongjun pushes his thick cock in, using the hand in his hair as leverage.
wooyoung feels it, the weight of it filling his mouth, and the tip nudging the back of his throat. he gags, and seongjun grins in satisfaction.
“yeah, just like that.” seongjun gives an amused breathy laugh, pushing him down further, he groans, emitting another gag from the brunette kneeling beneath him.
wooyoung whines around his cock and pushes his head back against seongjun’s hand. seongjun thrusts once more before he pulls wooyoung off roughly.
“you’re good for nothing but being on your fucking knees for me. do you understand?” he asks, venom in his tone. fuck, he can’t believe he held out this long.
wooyoung coughs, sucking in a deep breath and somehow he can still feel the weight of seongjun’s cock in his throat.
“bastard.” wooyoung chokes out, and seongjun responds by shoving him back down, thrusting his hips forward and keeping him there.
“you can’t even take my cock down your throat properly and you want me to think you’re good for anything else? fucking pathetic.” seongjun grits out, and smacks his cheek hard with his cock still in his mouth.
wooyoung flinches at the impact, eyes fluttering closed for a moment and face scrunching up at the flicker of pain.
but, he doesn’t stop.
if anything, his words fuel his need to please seongjun now. seongjun thinks he’s better than him, doesn’t he? he’s always first place, always one step ahead of him. he has to show seongjun that he isn’t pathetic like he thinks.
wooyoung hollows his cheeks, sucks harder, and let’s seongjun use him as he pleases. his own cock is so hard between his legs, and he can feel the wetness leak through his underwear, wetting the front.
seongjun begins to thrust harder, quicker, and he feels the hot pleasure build up. wooyoung’s mouth is so warm around him, so tight, and he feels himself unraveling with each passing moment.
“shit.” seongjun groans as he bucks his hips up, and forces his head down harder.
the view below him is sinful. wooyoung’s eyes are teary, cheeks flushed, and his lips stretched around his thick cock.
its not long before he gives one more hard thrust, and wooyoung gags, spluttering around his member. he pulls him off, removing the grip in his hair. coughs, catching his breath and his head drops between his shoulders.
he can’t take much more as he pulls his digits out and hoists the beefy brunette up roughly.
he presses wooyoung against the white wall, air expels from his lungs at the impact. his large hand grip the back of his neck, keeping him firm against the cold tile. all he can hear is wooyoung’s breathy whimpers and whines beneath him.
he pulls back a few inches, just to admire the view. wooyoung’s body looks insane, so toned, pretty back muscles flexing as he squirms.
he uses his free hand to trace his fingers down the curve of wooyoung’s spine, seeing the way he flinches, back arching, his breath hitching.
“suck.” seongjun says roughly, guiding his hand to wooyoung’s mouth and forcing two thick digits into the warmth..
he can feel the defiance leaving wooyoung as is fingers violate his mouth. spit drips down wooyoung’s chin, it’s wet and messy and seongjun can’t stop staring down at him, can’t stop his lingering gaze on his back. wooyoung’s eyes are half lidded, sucking on seongjun’s fingers like they were made to be in the warm heat of his mouth.
he fucks his fingers down his throat just like his cock was just moments before. wooyoung gets them nice and wet, and he decides it’s enough once spit drips down his wrist, coating his digits.
“jun—seongjun.” wooyoung whines out, moving his hips back.
“ive been taking everything you dished out, held myself back so many times. but today, you're gonna return the favor.” seongjun says from behind him.
“you’re gonna take everything i give you.” he grips his face. “my fingers….” he brushes over wooyoung’s lips. “my cock.” he gives a breathy laugh.
“fucking all of it.” he pulls wooyoung’s tiny little shorts just right down over his ass. they rest at his thighs. he pushes forward, pressing him tight against the wall.
he slides his hand down wooyoung’s lower back, pressing a spit soaked finger inside of him, slow. wooyoung immediately keens, let’s out a whine, and clenches his eyes shut, hands balling up into fists and resting his forehead against his forearm.
“ah—nghh.” he winces at the sting, and seongjun sucks and nips at his shoulder as a distraction. he fucks another finger in beside that one, feeling how tight wooyoung feels around him.
two fingers thrusts inside of him, and wooyoung just about loses it, choking out a breath of air. he begins moving them, and wooyoung can feel the painful sting mix with dull pleasure. he continues on, sucking and biting to mask the weight of two fingers fucking their way inside of him, attempting to loosen him up for his cock. the spit is not nearly enough and it’s pratically dry but seongjun thinks this is what he deserves for being such a fucking brat.
he removes his fingers and wooyoung feels like he can finally breathe again. but, it doesn’t last long.
seongjun’s hand finds his hip and he keeps wooyoung still as he lines himself up, mouth watering at the sight. he pushes in, slow, wooyoung tenses up almost immediately and seongjun can feel his walls tighten around his thick cock.
“i—can’t, fuck you’re so big.” wooyoung whines out, a shaky breath escaping his lips. his eyes clenching shut as seongjun guides more of his cock inside of his wet heat.
“you can. you were made for it.” seongjun tells him, pushing in inch by inch until he bottoms out and they both make unholy noises, feeling the pleasure pulse through them quicker than they can keep up with.
“you should just quit the team and become my personal cock slut.” he says from behind him, finding how easily wooyoung has lost composure amusing.
he has no more bite left inside of him.
“maybe if you swam as good as you took cock, you’d be a better swimmer.” seongjun laughs.
wooyoung shoves his arm back at the comment, and seongjun groans at the dull pain before continuing his intrusion.
“imagine what the team would say if they saw you like this, a pathetic little cockslut who thinks he deserves a spot on the team.” he whispers into his ear, a slow hard grind wedging his cock further inside of the brunette.
“i—i do deserve it.” wooyoung defends weakly, feeling every single inch of seongjun slide inside of him.
“the only thing you deserve is this.” seongjun grips his throat tight, wooyoung’s back arches at a curve and it only shoves seongjun’s cock deeper inside of him, the only sound a constant echo of skin slapping against skin in the empty locker room.
“jun—kiss me.” wooyoung begs pathetically, wanting nothing more than seongjun’s mouth on his own.
seongjun somehow feels even more turned on than before, and he complies. he uses the grip on his throat to turn his head to the side, fingers digging roughly into his cheeks.
the moment seongjun’s lips meet his, wooyoung melts into it, body jolting and their lips press together, tongue’s roaming each other's mouths like animals. it’s feverish, and fuck, all seongjun can think about is how he never wants to stop kissing him.
the brunette pulls away first, feeling like he’s right on the verge of release.
wooyoung strains out. “now fuck me like you mean it.” he grits out.
“this is all you needed, right? for hyung to put you in your fucking place.” seongjun teases, pulling out halfway before thrusting in, slow, calculated, just to drive wooyoung insane.
“fuck—seongjun, please.” he strains out, loud and whiny, tears flowing freely down his cheeks at the constant stimulation inside of him.
“say it.” he orders with a rough thrust, fucking into the wet heat harder than before. wooyoung knows seongjun isn’t one to bluff, won’t give him what he wants until he complies.
“this—this is what i needed.” he chokes out a sob. “for hyung to put me in my place.” thick tears flow down his cheeks, he looks a mess.
“now be a good little cock whore and take my load.” he breathes out into his ear.
wooyoung grips onto nothing, his hands sliding up the wall as he tries to keep himself upright from the power of seongjun’s thrusts. he fucks up into him once, twice—
“fuck—wooyoung.” seongjun groans, loud, voice deeper than before as he releases, warm spurts of come filling wooyoung’s insides, painting his walls. wooyoung sobs beneath him, a hot pleasure running through his veins.
a hand wraps around wooyoung’s neglected cock, finally and a few lazy strokes is all it takes for wooyoung to release in his hand, choking on his own tears. seongjun pulls out, slow and kisses his shoulder, grinning in pure satisfaction at how he just broke wooyoung in.
“get off me, bastard.” wooyoung breathes in a shaky breath, his thighs shaking.
“not a thank you?” seongjun grins, running a hand through his now sweaty fringe.
“asshole.” wooyoung fires out, voice raw.
“brat.” seongjun rebuttals.