when your city broke my skin and bones (say don't go) | WOOSAN

7

It's mid-September, the weather still yet to close in, the air still clinging to the summer warmth, when San steps through the door of AFD to find Hanbin waiting, a beaming smile on his face.

'You're finally free of Dawson,' Hanbin says in Korean, pulling San up the stairs. At the top, the burst of scents overwhelms San just as much as the first time. Hanbin drops back into English. 'I'm doing your scenes with you today and next Sunday.'

'Really?' San asks, perking up. It hasn't taken long for porn to become as much of a chore as his day job. Or maybe it's always a chore. The only thing he looks forward to is the paycheck, and it brings more stress and paranoia than anything else. Fucking Hanbin will be like a reward--no, a treat, making work easier to get through. San has no doubts that Hanbin won't treat him like Dawson. Maybe he'll even get to come. God, that thought alone has San grabbing the stupid lingerie from Jo and hurrying to the toilet. He hasn't come for months, and not for lack of trying, although San doesn't wank any near near as much as he used to. Porn isn't making him hate sex, per se, but when it brings pain and exhaustion, San has no desire to do anything but the bare minimum to function when he gets home, and wanking isn't a part of that.

Seeing himself in whatever lingerie Jo's picked out for him that day doesn't get easier, no matter how many times he stands in front of the mirror like this. Pale pink lace criss-crosses his body, the bralette always covering his scars, and San swears the thong gets smaller every week, which is a pretty impressive feat for an already miniscule triangle of fabric. But the tinyness of the thong contrasts his thighs and stomach starkly, making them seen bigger, fatter. San understands why Hanbin's always on him not to watch his own videos or even visit porn websites where anything could've been cross posted or taken from the AFD website and uploaded elsewhere. If he saw himself on camera like that, on the Internet like this, San thinks he might hate himself more than he already does, and his self-hatred is limitless.

A knock on the door startles San's eyes from his reflection. 'Can I come in?' Hanbin asks from the other side of the door.

San unlocks it, letting him in. Hanbin's in nothing but boxers and a dressing gown, lube in hand. The outline of his erection is visible, straining against the fabric. Hanbin readjusts his cock uncomfortably and holds out the lube. 'Here. It can be our little secret,' Hanbin says in Korean. They speak mostly in Korean, and San's glad for it. 'What Sandra doesn't know can't hurt her.'

San takes the offered lube. He wanked before he came, his usual clinical fingering just to get himself wet, but it's never enough to ease the stinging friction. He's convinced he's going to get carpet burn in his pussy. 'Thank you. Does that hurt?' San asks, inclining his head at Hanbin's cock. 'Because of the Blue?'

Hanbin sighs. 'Yeah. It's like walking around with blue balls for hours, and even orgasming doesn't help. It'll be hard and painful until the Blue wears off in a few hours. And my knot inflating is just fucking annoying.'

'Oh. I'm sorry,' San says, no sure what else to say. He hopes his scenes with Dawson have been as uncomfortable for him as they have been for San. But San hopes Hanbin sticking his cock in him will at least ease some of the discomfort. He likes Hanbin, genuinely likes him, and while San knows Hanbin will treat him as nicely as he'll ever be in treated in porn, San hopes Hanbin gets pleasure out of fucking him even if it's awful for San.

But San hopes it isn't awful. Not when he's been dreaming of having Hanbin rail him for weeks, his dreams leaving him wet and horny when he wakes up, with not even masterbation as respite. If it it awful, San knows he'll act like it's the best cock he's ever had, make Hanbin feel as good as he can. And considering the only other dick he's ever had is Dawson's, San doesn't think that's hard to manage.