(no) Strings Attached

This Meant Nothing

His brows had met in a manner similar to focus, as if he was trying to memorize this image, to save it in his brain's archives.

Then he dove lower, his lips ghosting over Wooyoung'a spasming stomach, leaving trails of kisses that felt like nothing but fire whenever his lips detached.

When his lips imprisoned one of his buds to suckle on Wooyoung couldn't keep the lust driven sounds in.

Instead he boosted his chest, arching his waist to bring San even closer, his hands wrapping around the sweaty head.

He was so sexually frustrated, the tightness on his lower region creating a mist in his mind. "Hurry," he moaned.

He didn't need for San for make him feel loved. That hurt even more. He just wanted to get it over with less painful feelings getting entangled in his already broken heart.

"Please," he whimpered when San ignored him in order to feel more of him with his soft lips.

San made the mistake to look at Wooyoung right then. He felt the air in his chest get knocked out, time momentarily stopped as they made yet another eye contact.

The younger's cheeks were flushed, his forehead sweaty and his long hair pooled around his head in such a breathtaking detail, San felt his heart betraying his defenses.

"Okay," he whispered. Not really knowing what the plea was about nor what his response actually replied to.

Not wanting to make Wooyoung wait anymore he dared push the younger's sweats down, giving him a full view on what had always been hiding behind baggy clothes.

His breath hitched again. Wooyoung wasn't just pretty. He was fucking gorgeous.

He let one of his hands wrap around the brunette, his chest fluttering at the complimenting sounds leaving Wooyoung's lips.

He even leaned closer wanting to hear them as loud as possible.

He blindly felt the younger's ass, fingers tapping at the entrance in a such tantalizing way, Wooyoung couldn't but voice the desire twice as loudly.

Spitting on his hands, San paused for a second as if to confirm Wooyoung was still aware of what's bound to happen. "I'll be gentle," he said in a tender voice.

Wooyoung scoffed though, "Please don't" his voice cracked. He didn't come tonight to get shaken even harder. That wasn't the point he was trying to make. And San was making this harder.

San frowned for a split second but ignored the plea this time, as he pushed his fingers in with such care, as if Wooyoung would break beneath him.

Wooyoung's jaw hang low, mouth open in a silent exclamation as his eyes closed. San's fingers were long, rough, lubricated just enough to have him feel every single brush.

San moaned at the sight, his own hardness unbearable. He couldn't help but claim the bit swollen lips one more time, to swallow the moans and feel the vibrations of them in his own chest.

His fingers pushed in further, more deliberately as he growled at the way the tight muscles sucked them in.

"Fuck," Wooyoung cursed against his lips, giving more space to San's active lips when he felt him get lurked toward his neck again.

"More," he groaned, his own lips finding ground on San's shoulder. And San granted him that much, adding two more fingers at once just to drown in the holy melodies leaving Wooyoung's mouth in the form of rasped moans.

"J-just.." Wooyoung choked on thin air when his prostrate was hit dead on. "Oh god—" his eyes rolled at the back of his head, shuddering when San's wet muscle painted invisible paths from his neck to his earlobe.