(no) Strings Attached

Just Us, Always

The skin beneath his mouth flinched with the ripple of shallow, shaken breaths—like even his body wasn't sure how to handle being seen this tenderly.

"Will you hold on for me?" Hongjoong whispered, his voice roughened by restraint. "You're more precious than a quick fuck, baby. Let me show you how much you mean to me."

Each word was punctuated with soft kisses—slow and deliberate—pressed to the curve of Seonghwa's trembling stomach.

Seonghwa whimpered, the sound breathless and raw. His hands found their place on Hongjoong's shoulders, fingers curling tight, nails biting gently into skin like he needed something to anchor him in the moment.

"Yes—yes, please."

Hongjoong groaned at the way the words left Seonghwa's lips—wrecked, needy, honest. Just three syllables, and it set something wild alight in his chest.

His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of Seonghwa's pants, pausing just enough for breath and permission. "Still okay, princess?" he rasped, voice thick with both hunger and restraint.

Seonghwa nodded—frantic, flushed, eyes wide and pleading. "Yes, Joongie. Please."

His breath came fast, shallow, like he was dizzy on the moment. And maybe he was.

Hongjoong tugged the last of Seonghwa's clothes away, his breath catching before it could leave him. He pushed himself up for a second, just to see—really see. Seonghwa, bare. Unhidden. Unafraid.

"Fuck," he breathed, his brows pulling tight with want. "You're too good for me, baby. Too fucking good."

"No," Seonghwa said quickly, voice firmer than before. "I'm not too good. I'm just good enough—for you."

He didn't like the way those words underestimated Hongjoong. Even if they were spoken in the rush of the moment.

Hongjoong's eyes snapped up to Seonghwa's face, widening just slightly—before softening, melting into something full of awe.

"Yes," he breathed. "Just right."

His hands slid up the inside of Seonghwa's thighs—warm, slow, reverent.

The younger gasped sharply, body arching at the touch, his skin still untouched, still achingly sensitive.

Hongjoong, newly confident from the beautiful sounds Seonghwa was making—sounds meant for him and only him—leaned in again, sliding lower until he was eye-level with Seonghwa's trembling thighs.

He nosed the soft skin gently, intimately, like he was breathing him in.

It pulled another whimper from Seonghwa, whose fingers instantly tangled in Hongjoong's hair, grounding himself.

"Sh—shit," he gasped, his voice shaky and low, as Hongjoong's lips parted—leaving open-mouthed kisses along the inside of his thigh, slow and reverent.

"Fuck—Joongie—" Seonghwa choked on his own gasp, back arching off the cushions, when he felt the skin between Hongjoong's teeth being sucked on.

"Joongie—" Seonghwa whimpered again, the nickname barely formed between shallow, broken breaths. He tugged at Hongjoong's hair—not to stop him, never that—but to anchor himself, to keep from unraveling completely.

Hongjoong glanced up, lips still brushing Seonghwa's skin, his voice a breathless murmur. "I've got you, baby. You don't have to do anything... just feel."

And Seonghwa felt—each kiss, each drag of Hongjoong's mouth against his thigh, like it was etched into his skin. The attention made him tremble, thighs twitching as his body struggled to handle how good it all was. How good he was being treated.