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At first it pisses him off.
Hyuntak’s fingers are wrapped around a tall glass of something pink and fruity, condensation glistening in the afternoon sun, purple straw floating between cubes of ice. He’s smiling at Seongje, tan and beautiful and still wet from their dip in the ocean, and he’s talking about something that Seongje can’t quite hear over the ringing in his ears.
His eyes are fixed on the pale band around Hyuntak’s ring finger. The absence of a tan; the absence of a ring.
It’s a beautiful day today. Hot but not scorching; just hot enough to dry the saltwater from their skin, but not so hot that the sand burns their feet. Lazy waves lick at the shoreline, the sound it makes is white noise against the horizon. Not five minutes ago Hyuntak was in the water diving after seashells and slicking his hair back as he resurfaced. Seongje watched him from the beachside bar with a cold beer in front of him.
But now, when Hyuntak is sitting in the wicker chair opposite him and smiling at him like nothing is wrong, Seongje finds his mood gloomier than the rainiest day back in Seoul.
It doesn’t help that Hyuntak is clearly flirting with the bartender. Right in front of Seongje. Did he seriously take his ring off to flirt right in front of Seongje? He feels bile rise up in his throat. His fingers tighten around the armrest of his lounge chair and he’s staring daggers at the—granted, very handsome—male bartender currently sending heart eyes at Hyuntak.
Seongje looks down at his own ring resting on his left ring finger, bright and silver, not yet worn out or having lost its shine. It’s not technically a wedding ring, though it looks like it. It’s more of a symbol. A “you’re mine” symbol. Not unlike a collar.
It was Hyuntak’s idea.
So why Hyuntak now felt the need to remove his collar while on vacation with Seongje is beyond him. Was it really on purpose? He’s smiling at Seongje like he always does, soft and innocent and like there’s never a cloud in the sky, and Seongje’s stomach turns itself inside out.
The sun does nothing to quell Seongje’s anger, in fact it fuels it, like a gust of wind stokes a fire, and he has no choice but to sit in it, burning up.
“Did you see the tiny little hand soaps in the cabinet? They’re shaped like seashells!”
The voice is coming from the bathroom where Hyuntak is getting dressed and getting ready.
Seongje is sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes locked on the shape of him just beyond the frame of the door. He has already changed into his clothes after a quick shower and he has been waiting for Hyuntak for twenty minutes. He has not moved a muscle in those twenty minutes.
“Shit, I think I got sunburned on the back of my neck,” Hyuntak says and leans back a bit to catch Seongje’s gaze. “Can you check?”
Seongje doesn’t answer, but Hyuntak approaches him anyway. He’s wearing a pair of lightly colored pants and a white shirt unbuttoned way too far down. Seongje can’t help but linger at the unbuttoned buttons.
Hyuntak stands in front Seongje with his back to him and pulls down at his shirt.
“Is it bad?”
“No,” Seongje answers without really looking.
Hyuntak looks at him over his shoulder. “Really?”
Seongje leans back, planting the palms of his hands behind him on the bed, kind of going for a non-chalant, carefree look. His right knee is bouncing impatiently, however. Hyuntak doesn’t seem to notice. He just pulls his shirt back in place and turns around with a kind smile.
“Are you ready to go?” he asks.
“Are you?” Seongje retorts childishly.
Hyuntak looks himself up and down and pats his pockets. “Yeah, I think so.”
Seongje scoffs and looks away. There’s a window in the hotel room looking out over the ocean. Seongje’s eyes find the horizon and stay there. “You didn’t forget something?”
“I don’t think so,” Hyuntak says. He sounds so oblivious it makes Seongje laugh. “Tell me then,” Hyuntak adds inquisitively.
Seongje meets his eyes with a sarcastic smile. “Your ring?” Seongje says and fidgets with his own with his thumb.
Hyuntak looks down at Seongje’s hand, then his own, then up to meet his eye. Then a myriad of expressions flash through him in a split second before he settles on a small, suppressed smile. Something in his posture changes, something that Seongje can’t quite pinpoint.
“Is that why you’ve been sulking all day?”
“I don’t know. Is that why you’ve been flirting with the hotel staff all day?” Seongje spits back. “‘Can I please have a dry towel? Oh, thank you so much, that’s perfec–'”
Hyuntak interrupts his mocking tone with a clear voice. “It’s called being polite, though I know you’re not too familiar with the concept.”
Seongje can’t argue that. His politeness always comes with a coat of sarcasm on it. “Still,” he argues weakly.
Hyuntak steps closer until he’s standing right in front of Seongje. His hand reaches out and for a second Seongje thinks he’s going to grab him, but he just keeps his hand in between them and extends his fingers.
“I guess its absence is pretty noticeable,” he muses.
It’s like a goddamn vacancy sign, Seongje thinks. You might as well wear a fucking sandwich board on your chest announcing your availability. He doesn’t say anything, but keeps quiet so as to not say anything stupid or irreversible.
Hyuntak moves his hand to grab Seongje’s chin, holding him there gently with his thumb pressing into the indent just below his lips. “Does it make you jealous?”
It’s said in such a sweet, concerned manner that it tips over into condescendingness. Seongje feels an immediate flush of heat wash over his face. He tears his head away from Hyuntak’s hand.
“Obviously.”
“Yeah?” Hyuntak says and grabs a hold of Seongje’s chin again, this time harder, and keeps him there, forcing eye contact. “And what if I really was flirting with that bartender? He was cute.”
Anger flares up inside Seongje, like gasoline thrown on a fire. “I’d kill him,” he says without hesitation.
Hyuntak smiles, just like Seongje knew he would. God he’s gorgeous.
“Can’t take you anywhere, huh?” Hyuntak speaks with a sultry voice and turns Seongje’s face first left, then right, as if examining him. Then he pushes his thumb through Seongje’s lips and forces his mouth open, hooking his thumb over the bottom row of his teeth. “Need a muzzle on you.”
The effect of his words is instant. Blood immediately starts pumping in Seongje's ears, the thump of it almost deafening, and in his gut he feels the familiar warmth and strain that precedes the hardening of his cock. He says nothing with Hyuntak’s finger in his mouth, but just locks eyes with him as Hyuntak runs his thumb over the row of his teeth, feeling the grooves and indentations.
He doesn’t dare to look away from his eyes, but wonders if Hyuntak is hard too. It usually doesn’t take much for him.
Hyuntak’s voice, however, sounds softer and clearer than Seongje feels. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous.”
Seongje bites down on his finger. A warning.
Hyuntak’s posture falters for a split second and Seongje uses it to his advantage. He grabs Hyuntak by the back of his thighs and pulls him closer. The finger is still in his mouth and he lets his tongue swirl around it. Hyuntak meets his eyes with a warm smile and eyes sparked with something dangerous.
He pulls his finger out of Seongje’s mouth and crawls into his lap, a knee on either side of him on the mattress. Seongje wastes no time tilting his head up and catching him in a kiss, his tongue immediately breaching Hyuntak’s lips. He's greeted wetly and warmly. Hyuntak's wet thumb is brushing against Seongje’s cheekbone and his ass is pressing heavily against his crotch. This feeling, this rush of taking and giving what the other needs, is so familiar now after years of being together, yet it’s still as exciting as when they were young teenagers fooling around. It’s impossible to get used to.
Seongje’s cock is really starting to draw attention to itself. It’s pressing insistently against Hyuntak’s ass now, and he grabs him harder and pulls him further up his lap until his thick thighs are straddling him, and then he digs his fingertips into the fabric pulled taut across his cheeks, desperate to have him closer and preferably less dressed.
He licks at his tongue, pulls his lip between his teeth and bites down until Hyuntak moans and tugs at his hair. Then Hyuntak pulls away, out of breath. “We have a reservation in twenty minutes.”
Seongje truly couldn’t care less. “Do we?” he asks and kisses along Hyuntak’s jawline.
Hyuntak laughs and throws his head back. Seongje lets a hand slide under his shirt and up his back. The skin is damp with heat.
“Yes,” Hyuntak sighs and tangles his hand in Seongje’s hair. “We don’t have time.”
Seongje pulls him closer. “Yes, we do.”
Then his head is being yanked back. “We don’t, baby. Later.”
He falls back on the mattress with a sigh. His hands trail down Hyuntak’s thighs, coming to rest on his knees. The smell of his moisturizer is still in his nostrils.
“Please, I’ve been watching you in those tiny shorts all day. I’ve been so patient," Seongje whines.
“So be patient a little longer,” Hyuntak says with a smile and climbs off Seongje's lap.
Seongje’s cock twitches at the separation. He curses at the ceiling.
“And I’ll have the seafood platter and whatever wine you’d recommend with that. Thank you so much.” Hyuntak smiles at the waiter and hands the menu back to him.
His smile is radiant, his eyes are crinkled at the corners, and the waiter returns the expression eagerly. Seongje notices his gaze run quickly up and down Hyuntak’s body.
Then the waiter nods and smiles, and is just turning away from them when Hyuntak lays a light hand on his arm to get his attention. “Oh, and can I get a glass of ice water with some lemon? Thank you so much,” Hyuntak repeats, this time with emphasis.
Seongje is seeing red.
The conversations around them ring hollowly against the walls of the restaurant. Hyuntak smiles at him across the table, so innocent and sinful at the same time. His chin is resting against his hand.
And he’s still not wearing the fucking ring.
Seongje could have sworn he saw him pick it up from the bathroom when they left the hotel room. So where was it now? Tucked away in his pocket? Forgotten on the floor of the taxi they took here? What kind of game is he playing?
They get their food served but Seongje can’t taste anything. Hyuntak makes small talk but Seongje can’t concentrate. After their entrées are taken away, Seongje excuses himself.
He practically staggers to the bathroom, making his way in between chairs and tables, and once he’s in there, he locks the door behind him and leans against it, head resting against the painted wood.
He curses and closes his eyes.
In his mind he sees Hyuntak’s fingers; neat and clean but calloused. Naked. Unguarded. Unclaimed.
God, it drives him crazy. He doesn’t understand why Hyuntak is doing this to him. Why he would fuck with Seongje like this when they’re on vacation. His mind is mixed up like a tangle of wires and his body responds by—
Well.
Seongje presses the palm of his hand against his pants and his hard cock underneath. It provides a moment of relief, but then the ache returns tenfold, like a wave crashing violently against a cliffside.
He wonders if Hyuntak is flirting with the waiter right now. What does the waiter think of them? That they’re just friends? That they’re lovers? Perhaps that Seongje is married and Hyuntak is unmarried? Does he think Seongje is cheating on his partner with Hyuntak?
Let him, Seongje thinks. He would cheat on anyone to be with Hyuntak.
With no option of relieving himself in the way he most wants to, he pushes off the door and turns on the faucet. Cold water pours over his fingers and he splashes it against his face as he reminds himself to be a normal, sane human being. His mirror image mocks him.
He makes it back to the table just in time for dessert.
Hyuntak holds his hand in the cab on the way back to the hotel. His fingers are tangled with Seongje’s, squeezing around Seongje’s ring. His breath is hot against the shell of his ear as he whispers some joke about the driver and coaxes a smile out of Seongje.
The way to their room is excruciatingly long; through the reception, past the lounge filled with music and chatter and the sound of clinking glasses, across a boardwalk overlooking the pool area, down a seemingly everwinding hallway, and then finally, finally, they’re inside the room, and Seongje launches himself at Hyuntak.
Their lips crash against each other before Hyuntak even has time to react, and they stumble a few steps into the room as their hands grasp desperately at each other. Seongje kisses him, tastes him, devours him, until he’s out of breath and has to pull away to not die right here at the feet of him.
“Please put it back on,” Seongje says, his forehead resting against Hyuntak’s. “Please.”
Hyuntak seems to hesitate. He takes a breath, then another, without saying anything. He starts unbuttoning Seongje’s shirt.
“Get on the bed.”
Seongje doesn’t have to be told twice. He pulls away from Hyuntak, whose fingers undo a button at the point of separation, and he goes to sit on the bed, just as he was sitting earlier before they left for dinner, and it’s like no time has passed except the sun now sets outside the window and paints Hyuntak in a golden sheen.
The love of his life and his best friend walks over to him, leans down and whispers sweetly in his ear: “Is that really what you want, babe?”
Seongje swallows. “Yes.”
Hyuntak slides onto his knees on the floor in front of him, like a snake; tongue darting out to wet his lips and eyes piercing right through him. “I don’t believe you,” he whispers.
There’s pressure against Seongje’s crotch; a sudden warmth, a dampness seeping through his clothes. And then–hands running up and down his thighs before settling on his hips, thumbs pressing into his groin. Seongje doesn’t see any of this. His head is thrown back and his eyes are closed. Underneath him he hears Hyuntak breathe in heavily through his nose as he nuzzles against Seongje’s cock.
“I think you like it,” Hyuntak mumbles against him. “I saw you coming back from the bathroom. Your cock was so hard I’m sure everybody must have noticed.”
Seongje flushes hot and red but not with shame or embarrassment, but rather this twisted satisfaction in knowing that Hyuntak sees just how much Seongje wants him. His exhale is shaky when he lets go of the breath he’s been holding, and he’s so, so unbelievably whipped.
“I bet you fantasized about beating up that waiter.” Seongje can’t deny that. “What if I tell you I fantasized about the same thing?” Hyuntak’s fingers move to unbutton Seongje’s pants. His mouth leaves his crotch for a second and Seongje would bet that if he looked down, he’d see Hyuntak staring up at him, hungrily. But he keeps his eyes shut and lets Hyuntak’s words paint the pictures in his mind. “I love that look you get in your eyes when you get jealous. It made me want to fuck you right there in the middle of the restaurant.”
Seongje’s cock twitches against the stretch of fabric and his hands instinctively find their way into Hyuntak’s hair. The image is too much for him: Hyuntak sliding onto Seongje’s cock in the middle of the restaurant, for everyone to see. The look on the waiter’s face when Hyuntak moans Seongje’s name: envy, defeat. It would taste so sweet and Seongje would lick the aftertaste of it into Hyuntak’s mouth.
There’s a nudge against the back of his thighs and Seongje lifts up to let Hyuntak slide down his pants and then his underwear. The relief of his cock escaping the confinement of his pants is immediate, and when Hyuntak licks a stripe across the length of him, it’s electrifying.
“I want you so bad, babe,” Hyuntak whines and Seongje has to squeeze his eyes tight to not look down. Not yet. “Promise you’ll never let anyone take me from you.”
The words are delivered with a gift: wet lips wrapping the head of Seongje’s cock, desperate and restrained all at the same time. His tongue presses against the slit like it’s toying with it.
“I promise,” Seongje says, his voice rough and ruined.
Hyuntak pulls off him. “Look at me.”
Seongje’s eyes snap open and he finally looks down at Hyuntak and meets his eyes, dark and filthy and full of love, and unconditionally his. There’s a pathetic pout on his lips and he’d look almost cute if it weren’t for Seongje’s swollen cock pressing against his cheek.
Seongje brings a hand down to Hyuntak’s face and runs his thumb over Hyuntak’s bottom lip still glistening with spit. “I’ll kill you before I let anyone take you away from me.”
Hyuntak sighs and his face melts into a smile that Seongje catches on his thumb.
Then he pushes Seongje’s hand away and takes him deep in his mouth, moving up and down with eagerness. Seongje’s cock pushes at the roof of his mouth, the back of his throat, and Hyuntak takes it so well, gripping his thighs in effort. And it feels so good, but Seongje has a certain picture in his mind now that he can’t get out.
The shift in dynamics lets Seongje coax Hyuntak off him. He’s pliant and suggestible now, Seongje sees it in his eyes and the way he waits for further instructions. It’s funny how Hyuntak is both the most stubborn person Seongje has ever known, but also the most devoted. If Seongje would kill for him, then Hyuntak would die for him.
“Get on the bed.” Seongje’s voice is unwavering now, having control of the situation for the first time today.
Hyuntak gets to his feet and crawls onto the bed. He shuffles up against the headboard and lies down on his back, arms politely by his side.
“Where is it?” Seongje asks.
“In the bathroom. On the shelf above the sink.”
Seongje stands up and kicks his pants off but keeps his cock tucked into his underwear. With his face fixed in a serious expression, he gives Hyuntak a command. “Take your clothes off.”
Hyuntak is moving before he even turns towards the bathroom.
Seongje switches the light on by the bathroom door, and sure enough, on the small ceramic shelf above the sink is Hyuntak’s ring. Silver and shiny and staring back at him. He picks it up and weighs it in his hand. It’s cold but warms up quickly in his hand. He closes his fingers around it and walks back to the bedroom.
Hyuntak is just pulling off his underwear and settling back on the bed when Seongje enters.
Fuck, it’s a sight to see. All those agonizing hours of watching Hyuntak in his tiny swim shorts are finally coming to fruition. There’s a tanline on his upper thigh where the hem of his shorts rested, and across his hips as well. It’s like his golden skin frames his cock that’s lying hard and expectant against his stomach. His knees are a little scratched and there’s the scar as well, but he looks beautiful and captivating and ready to ruin.
Seongje, still fully dressed, climbs onto the bed and up his body until he’s sitting across his hips, not considering the cock rock hard and leaking beneath him. Hyuntak just looks at him with all the love in the world.
“Give me your hand.”
Hyuntak brings his left hand up to rest against Seongje’s thigh. Seongje takes it and flips it around so his palm is facing up, and he presses the ring into it and closes his fingers around it. Then he grabs a hold of both of his hands and brings them up so they’re resting on the pillow next to Hyuntak’s head.
Straddling him like this, wearing nothing but his underwear and a white shirt halfway unbuttoned, is reminiscent of one of the first real dates they went on, after Seongje finally got his shit together and made an effort. He’d had innocent intentions—well, as innocent as Seongje can actually be—and had taken Hyuntak out on a nice date to a nice restaurant, but it had ended like it always does with the two of them. Rough and desperate and needy.
Hyuntak looks needy now as well, but as opposed to when they first started dating, he isn’t afraid to ask for what he wants now. Though now he rarely needs to.
Seongje usually knows it before he does so himself.
“Open up,” Seongje says.
Hyuntak immediately parts his lips and his eyes flicker expectantly down to Seongje’s crotch. And Seongje knows he could do it; he could pull his cock out and slot it in between his lips and Hyuntak would gladly take it.
Instead he moves his right hand off Hyuntak’s wrist and brings it to his face before forcing his ring finger into his mouth.
Hyuntak blinks with surprise and then recognition when he realizes what Seongje wants him to do. He lifts his head a bit off the pillow in order to swallow it deeper, until his teeth reach the base of his finger just beyond the ring. Then, slowly and carefully, he pulls the ring off as Seongje pulls his finger out of his mouth, and he keeps it there safely between his teeth while maintaining eye contact.
Seongje releases a shaky breath. His hand feels different now. Lighter.
Hyuntak brings his free hand—the one already holding his own ring—to his mouth and spits out the ring other into his palm. Metal clashes against metal and it makes a small sound in the space between them. Hyuntak’s hand closes in a fist.
“Keep still.”
Seongje moves down Hyuntak’s body, but not before grabbing the lube off the bedside table, and he lets his lips brush over his skin, planting a kiss on his collarbone, his ribs, just below his belly button. He knows his body in and out, knows which spots make him squirm and which make him shudder. His cock is leaking against his abdomen and Seongje licks it up before moving onto the head, red and purple and glistening.
A moan—no, a whimper—immediately leaves Hyuntak’s lips and he throws his head back against the pillow. Seongje smiles and gives the head a small peck before pulling back to look at Hyuntak. All of Hyuntak. Jet black hair falling into his eyes, reddened cheeks and parted lips, soft pecks and flexed abs, tan skin almost gold against the white of the bedsheets.
He squirts a not too generous amount of lube on his ring finger and positions himself between his legs, nudging at his knees to signal for him to bend them to grant easier access. Hyuntak does so without looking down.
He moves his dry hand over Hyuntak’s thighs, brushing the skin and feeling the muscles underneath. Then he slides the pad of his wet finger against Hyuntak’s rim.
Hyuntak gasps and pinches his eyes together. His cock twitches against his stomach.
“Is this what you want, baby?” Seongje asks sweetly and presses his finger past the rim.
“Yes,” Hyuntak chokes out, still not looking at him.
“You wanna feel my cock? Want me to fuck you?”
His finger presses further in, searching for the spot he knows will make Hyuntak whimper again.
“Yes,” Hyuntak repeats.
His back arches off the bed as Seongje finds it, but Seongje keeps his other hand firm on his thigh.
“Then tell me who you belong to.”
Hyuntak’s eyes open and he looks down at Seongje, refocusing like he just woke up from a dream. Seongje curls his finger until he hits the spot again.
“Who do you belong to? Tell me,” Seongje insists. He doesn’t mean to sound angry, but the truth is he’s probably more desperate to fuck Hyuntak than Hyuntak is to be fucked. He feels like he’s gonna die soon if he doesn’t get Hyuntak on his cock.
But Hyuntak doesn’t answer. Instead he starts moving his hips in frantic movements, seeking pleasure. Seongje tries to hold him still with his free hand, but Hyuntak is and always has been stronger than him.
“You’re mine,” Seongje insists, and it comes out so pathetic that he almost blushes.
Fuck fuck fuck.
Hyuntak no doubt hears his desperation. He stills his hips and captures Seongje with a glance. His eyes are dark and it’s hard to distinguish iris from pupil in this low light, and they swallow everything up. The light, the darkness, and Seongje.
His fingers open up and reveal the two things against his palm.
“No,” he says, “you’re mine.”
Hyuntak rides him in the empty hotel room, but Seongje imagines they’re in the middle of the restaurant, in the dining room surrounded by guests, all looking on in combined horror and envy.
Hyuntak is his, and only his, and he is Hyuntak’s.
When they’re lying on the bed aftwards, freshly showered but already sweaty again, skin sticking on skin, Hyuntak slides his own ring first onto his own finger, and then the other ring onto Seongje’s finger. Seongje likes the weight.
“I swear I really did forget it. I took it off so I wouldn’t lose it in the sea when we went for a swim.”
His voice sounds so small and apologetic it makes Seongje chuckle and pull him closer in.
“It’s okay. I guess I could have, uh, handled myself a little better.”
Now Hyuntak is the one to chuckle. “No, I like it when you’re a little insane.”