(no) Strings Attached

Just Us, Always

"I'll take care of you," he said. "Always."

Seonghwa's fingers found their way back into Hongjoong's hair, tugging lightly as he whimpered, hips tilting again. "Then do it," he whispered. "Make me feel yours."

Hongjoong exhaled slowly, watching the way Seonghwa rocked against him with purpose. It was still gentle—exploratory—but there was no mistaking the heat behind it.

"You're doing so well," he murmured, letting one hand trace up Seonghwa's spine, fingers fanning over warm, bare skin. "Every little thing you give me—I feel it. All of it."

Seonghwa shivered.

He tilted forward again, lips brushing over Hongjoong's—then lower, along his jaw, then under his ear. He kissed there once, twice, and when he felt Hongjoong's breath hitch, he smiled against his skin.

"You like that?" he whispered, voice barely a thread.

Hongjoong's fingers dug just a bit deeper into his waist. "You really want to tease me right now, baby?"

A soft giggle slipped from Seonghwa's lips—almost bashful, but playful too. His tongue darted out to taste the shell of Hongjoong's ear and then—

"Oh, fuck," Hongjoong breathed.

"Maybe," Seonghwa said, cheeks flaming. "You always take care of me... I want to make you feel good too."

"You do," Hongjoong rasped. "You do so fucking much and you don't even realize it."

His hands slid lower, trailing the dip of Seonghwa's spine, fingers finding the curve of his ass, gently squeezing—enough to make the younger gasp. Then again, a little firmer.

"See what you do to me?" he said, leaning in to kiss the base of Seonghwa's throat. "Every time you touch me like you want to—I lose my mind."

Seonghwa's hips stuttered forward, friction sparking between them.

Hongjoong grunted low, lips dragging over his chest now—kissing a trail down, slow and steady. One of Seonghwa's hands slipped back into his hair, clenching.

He wasn't used to this kind of tension—not this drawn-out, simmering heat that felt like it might devour him before anything even happened. His body ached. But not from shame.

From want.

"Tell me what you want," Hongjoong murmured, his voice husky now, mouth just above Seonghwa's sternum. "I'm not moving until you say it."

Seonghwa's lips parted. He inhaled sharply.

His cheeks burned, but he didn't back down. "I want your mouth. On me." His hand tugged slightly on Hongjoong's hair. "Everywhere."

Hongjoong's eyes darkened. His grip on Seonghwa's hips tightened. "Then lie back."

Seonghwa did, heart pounding as he reclined onto the couch. Hongjoong followed—slow, crawling up his body like a promise—until he straddled his thighs and ducked down to kiss just beneath his ribs.

It was feather-light. Too soft.

Seonghwa whimpered.

Hongjoong smirked, lips brushing his stomach. "You asked for my mouth. I'm using it."

"Not like that," Seonghwa panted, voice fragile with restraint.

"No?" Hongjoong murmured, kissing a bit lower. Then he sucked—just long enough to leave a soft, flushed mark blooming across pale skin. "But you deserve to."

He ignored the plea lingering in Seonghwa's tear-glossed eyes, choosing instead to trail lower, placing a reverent kiss in the dip of his trembling stomach.